


Do Solemnly Swear: The First 100 Days

by alephthirteen



Series: Sticky and Sweet [1]
Category: DCU (Comics), Supergirl (TV 2015), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: Because Kara is Beefy, Close Calls, Compromising situations, Dirty Pool, Elections, F/F, F/M, Horse Trading, Just Less Villian-Punching, Kara is Naked Most of the Time, Lena is All Right with That, Politics and Other Cruel Things, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Porn with Politics, Saving the World, Sex Scandals for Fun and Profit, Thin Excuses, Trigger Warning: Republican Party, Trigger warning: sexism, fixers - Freeform, mastermind Lena Luthor, polls, scandals, trigger warning: homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:49:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25478698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alephthirteen/pseuds/alephthirteen
Summary: Lena Kieran Luthor defeats her brother and Kara drags her to therapy.  After getting her balance back, she uses a lifetime spent deceiving, being deceived, making business deals and plotting the downfall of villains and bigots to do the one good thing she can do with the Luthor Skillset(tm).  She becomes America's second female president and both its first single female president and it's first LGBT President.ORPresident Lena Luthor spends her first 100 days in office juggling horny girlfriends, office tryst, unwanted male attention, bible-belt senators, and FBI agents who need to follow up on her brother's case.  It doesn't help that she's queer women cantip and Cat Grant is her interim press secretary.
Series: Sticky and Sweet [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1866898
Comments: 65
Kudos: 30





	1. Down the Up Staircase

**Author's Note:**

> This story is what I wish would happen to canon Lena Luthor. It's what she deserves. Characters will retain their DC powers and where appropriate, backstories. Some will retain their relationships, some will not. Lena is very much not monogamous in this story but she does have feelings, strong feelings, though more for some of her lovers than others.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena can walk down a staircase just as well as the next girl...promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It should be noted that in this story, there is Real Person Fiction but not in terms of shipping. That is to say, Lena will interact with real politicians but I'm not knocking senators together like Barbies and making them kiss. Which, having seen the appearance and personality of the average US senator, is probably for the best.
> 
> **To my US-based readers:** I will bash people, not regions of the country or groups.  
>  **To my international readers (do I have any???):** I will do my damndest to represent your countries politics as best I can.
> 
> Realism in terms of political back and forth will be maintained as much as it can be. Lena takes office in our world, with the challenges of climate change, gun violence, pandemics and extremism and all that awfulness with her brother's alien-hating terrorism and murder clowns in Gotham and all the other DC Universe madness on top of it.
> 
> **Political Notes**  
>  * Politicians do not _have_ to swear in on a Bible. Going back as far as Thomas Jefferson, secular books have been used.  
> * The term of a president ends on Jan 21st at 12:00pm, no matter what. If an election didn't happen, or is not yet decided, the transition still does. This will be more significant later.  
> * Secret Service policy is that only they carry weapons in the presence of the President. In the DC universe, that would have to be modified to exempt beings who _are_ weapons based on innate powers. Otherwise the President would basically never be allowed near Superman/Supergirl/Flash/Green Lantern and others. This is why the Amazons are armored, but not carrying swords and spears. Respecting that.
> 
> **DC Canon Divergence Notes**  
>  * Lena Luthor was born in Metropolis when her mother was visiting Lionel on the sly.  
> * Maggie Sawyer stayed in Gotham with Kate Kane.  
> * Alex discovered she was gay when she met Sara Lance during one of the Legends missions. She didn't tell anyone else until she met Sam.  
> * Kate Kane re-enlisted following the end of Don't Ask, Don't Tell, finished West Point and did a five-year tour of duty at the Pentagon.  
> * Sam Arias retained her powers and Ruby developed them at thirteen. They work with Supergirl on threats only Kryptonians can solve although their costumes include full-on disguises, complete with masks and image inducers.  
> * As heavily implied in the comics, Kara Zor-El is the Worldkiller who was never found ("the survivor").  
> * Amazons-related events are pulled from both Wonder Woman (2017) and the animated Wonder Woman (2009) movie, along with Wonder Woman: Earth One comics. In short, this means that Amazons other than Diana have come out, Amazons assisted in preventing Ares from leveling Washington DC with zombies, and at least some back-and-forth travel to the island is possible.

**Washington DC, Jan 21st 2021, 12:00pm**

Lena looks out over the crowd. Just north of a million, they say, and more than two-thirds female. One group seems to have stuck together in order to make the pride flag with their color-coordinated ponchos. Pussy hats from the women's resistance movement and upraised fists and Black Lives Matter T-Shirts and Irish flags and hoodies with Guy Fawkes masks and nuns and _everything_ stretches back the whole length of the reflecting pool. Everyone is masked, even the aliens which don't have gaseous respiratory systems. One Maeshar is wearing a face mask on her face and another two on her neck, for each set of gills.

_God, they're here to see me. :Less than two months into vaccination and they think I'm worth it. That's scary._

As Justice Roberts approaches her she does her best to look at him like she looked at Veronica in her office last October. 

Whereas the mafia queen wannabe folded like a deck of cards, he is made of stiffer stuff. The liberal justices are here, plus Clarence Thomas of all fucking people but he seems to be deep in conversation with James Olsen. 

Mitch McConnel looks deathly pale. Nancy Pelosi has thus far refrained from cackling gleefully. The Squad was all but banned from attending so there are four iPads on their seats with Instagram streams. 

Tiffany Trump got herself a front-row seat on the platform and wearing a Luthor 2020 shirt, to boot. Donald Trump didn't show. Melania, either, nor the Three Mannequins, as Kara called them. It doesn't matter. That's a problem for two-hours-from-now Lena to deal with.

Right now, she has to deal with something worse. Looking sincere and trying to give an inspiring speech.

Roberts stops just in front of her, carrying the Bible. Kara clears her throat loudly. His shoulders slump. Alura walks over, resplendent in some glittering red number with the House of El sigil in black gems and with Diana Prince following her in the same colors but in Vera Wang, not Argo City's new line.

Alura holds out a tray with a Quran, a Bible, the _Baghavad Gita,_ a Torah given by Eliza's rabbi, the _Book of Rao_ , a Durlan songscroll, the _Testament of Hyronmeer_ , the _Wanderers Song_ from Starhaven, the _Voice of the Waters_ from Maeshar and the _Song of Many Mouths_ from Helgramakk, along with the collected non-fiction works of Carl Sagan.

Roberts refuses to take it and Lena thinks her quasi-mother-in-law is about ten seconds away from getting some practice time in with her heat vision.

Lena nods at the guy running the mics and flicks hers on.

"Hand it to me," she snaps. "I'm not afraid of diversity."

Watching Robert's lips twitch when he realizes it was broadcast is the best thing she's seen all day.

There's a whisper that travels from the back of the crowd forward as they realize what caused the faux pas. She hadn't planned on holding a tray of religions and humanist ponderings from a half a dozen planets. It would be a lot heavier if any of the alien works except the Raoist one were actually books as opposed to the data crystals they are encoded on. 

_Three shifts waitressing at the Scarlet Club, don't fail me now!_

"Raise your right hand and repeat after me."

He struggles to get through it after having his masculinity, courage, and dominance pricked so deep.

"I, Lena Kieran Luthor, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States."

"So help you God?" he needles.

Lena nods.

He steps back.

Lena pulls out her note cards from the ride over along with the piece of paper with her full speech written by the six best writers in the business. She steps up to the microphone and inhales deeply.

There's an old man in a veteran's cap in the front row, held up by his grand-daughters in law who, unless she is mistaken are holding each other's hands behind his back. Lois Lane is down there, with her tape recorder aimed at Lena. Jessica Cruz has got her right hand clamped over her left as her Lantern ring keeps misfiring. King Arthur and Queen Mera stand at the edge of the reflecting pool in full Atlantean regalia. A dozen armored Amazons kneel before the stage, heads bowed. Hippolyta herself stands behind Lena, with Kara's mother. 

There's some very unusual giggling coming from a thick rose bush that was not on the grounds yesterday. Catwoman had the sheer nerve to show up in her full costume and is currently leaning against the beefy FBI agent holding a taser to her neck. Bruce Wayne has his head in his hands. Clearly, they misunderstood the dress code for today's outing. Cassandra Cain is leaning close to Barbara Gordon so she can help with the difficult words. Kate Kane stands at attention without realizing this isn't west point and that she's in a dashing burgundy three-piece, not parade uniform. Maggie Sawyer is beside her in Gotham Police parade dress, as is Commissioner Gordon.

Lena's eyes land on a Rakni-Xinda girl waving all four of her yellow arms at her and standing on her human father's shoulders. Her mother is holding the hand of a teenage girl who must be her stepsister. Lena folds the long speech up and puts it face down on the podium.

"As I stand here, I am under the weight of immense tradition. Tradition says to give a speech that lifts the spirits and warms the heart and sounds good with the Marine Corps Band backing it on the nightly news."

Lena takes the first index card and pockets it.

"But that tradition is for cameras and archivists, not for your benefit."

"One of my favorite professors described a good graduation speech this way: heartfelt, hopeful, and no more than five minutes. That's my goal here today."

Some chuckles spring up in the crowd.

"I believe in honesty. I will honestly tell you that right now, America needs work. Fifty-three thousand men died in Vietnam from an unnecessary war. Hundreds of thousands more came home with crippling trauma. Since this spring, twice that many Americans died before the vaccine was created. Before it was brought from Argo and deployed, we lost as many as 9/11 and the wars after it. We've stopped dying but we're still hurting."

She pockets another card.

"It was preventable. We could have lost no one, or a tiny fraction, had medical science been deployed rapidly, consistently, and early. If we stayed at home and got ready, whether or not it was convenient for the stock market. If the offers for research collaboration with European and Asian partners been accepted. If the offers from our allies from the stars been accepted."

Card three.

"Last fall, a half-million acres burned in California. Eighty percent of Australia either caught fire or was under so much smoke it had to be evacuated. Put together, the fires in Africa added up to one third the landmass of the United States. Every hurricane that reached American soil this year was a category five. That too, is preventable. We have had the science for decades to save ourselves. We already know how. We need to stay strong, we need to stay united, and we need to hurry."

"The year before last, when schools were open, four hundred and nineteen American schools were targeted for gun violence. Our friends in blue were tireless..." 

Card four.

Lena gestures to Superman where he hovers over the crowd. The older Kent boy, Jon, hovers beside him. The Kryptonian heroes known only as Diamond and Ruby hover over the two rows of seats, their armor glimmering of white and red in the sun. Only Supergirl has not shown up.

"But three or four, or five people with their own lives to lead cannot be everywhere at once. Sixteen children died. Nine confused little boys took their own lives rather than be stopped. Before we had Supergirl and Superman, we lost over a hundred of our babies every year to violence. We should be _ashamed,_ America, that we let this happen. The gave the help gladly but we should wonder why we needed their help at all. This too, can be prevented. Not as easily, perhaps, but it can be prevented without trampling individual rights and also restoring the right of our children to live through prom night, or sixth grade, or kindergarten."

"Lastly, this country and nations around the world face a rise in hateful autocracy we have not faced since the 1930s. Hatred of skin colors, of religions, of identities, of planets of origin. It took the full force of the human race and two hundred million dead to stop fascism last time. We need to stop it before its that bad. We need to prevent it."

"Hate is hate. Stealing is stealing. Cruelty is cruelty. Rules are rules and they apply to everybody. If I find hate in my White House, it will be shown the door. If I find corruption, whether in the light of day or in a one-on-one with a legislator, it will be in the next day's paper. If I find a threat to this nation, whether it is military, social, medical or economic, it will be dealt with any and all tools we possess and with the help of all our citizens and their great minds and great spirits."

Card five.

"I..."

Lena pauses.

"I actually didn't think I wanted to be here, a year ago. I wanted to block a third-party candidate from breaking out into the general election, so I ran in six states. I thought of it like I think of chess. Something changed. Speaking to you, listening to you...even six feet apart, I felt like I had found a family. Three hundred and fifty million, human and alien, white and black, gay and straight, rich and poor, educated and humble. I was an orphan who was taken in by terrorists but in _you,_ I found a family. We're going to do what family does. We're going to love each other and teach each other and help us all be the best version of ourselves."

"Thank you, America."

Lena pockets the sixth card. Kara lifts her eyebrow but doesn't say anything.

She toggles off the mic and starts down the stairs. 

Kara appears beside her, still in her civvies, but so fast that people may wonder.

"Other staircase, babe," she whispers. "Up the left, down the right."

"Right..." Lena groans.

She turns towards the other staircase, stopping long enough to flick on the microphone.

"So in case you were wondering, I'm not perfect."

The whole crowd seems to cackle as one.

Kara says something in kryptohavli and her mother scolds her under her breath for her language.

There's a crack of air and the cameras swing back towards the park. 

Agent Liberty is being pulled out of the ruins of an armored truck, his armor sliced around the middle by heat vision and his left arm broken. Around him are a dozen of his thugs, their melted and bent assault rifles and dozens of drums of liquid explosive with the wires between each neatly severed. 

_I wonder how he thought he was going to get close enough to detonate that? Moron._

Secret Service agents by the dozen snatch Lena up and herd her into the limo. Just before they slam the door close and peel out, Lena looks out the window and realizes something. Kara is still in her beetle-green silk dress and however brief, the fight pulled her hair out of its bun. It's fallen almost to her waist in long, playful waves of gold. Between the woman from the stage ending up across the park at superspeed and the obvious lack of Supergirl among the Krptyonian guests, the jig is up. Even if no news crew took a single photo, half the crowd would figure it out before dinner or just on the walk back to their hotels.

Cat Grant and Nia were already in the limo.

"I've been president..."

Lena checks her watch.

"Nine minutes and I have a public relations crisis. Looks like you're up, Miss Grant. Miss Nal, take notes."

"She never was good at keeping secrets," Cat muses.

Nia is practically wiggling in her seat, her big brown eyes bright with mischief.

"Please tell me that was the first lady's unofficial introduction to the spotlight!" she crows.

Lena sighs.

"No. It wasn't."

"Trouble in paradise?" Cat teases. "Frosty in the bedroom?"

"Doesn't look like it!" Nia goads. "How red can Lena's cheeks get, anyway?"

"Paradise is both more crowded and more complicated than I thought," Lena replies.


	2. Measuring the Curtains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Lena does damage control, Kara, Sam and Ruby air out the house, Lena has a messy first day at work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much of the story will take place in the White House, so I will be posting a map of the place shortly so that you can more easily visualize.
> 
> **Terms**  
>  ATF = Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms  
> CIA = Central Intelligence Agency  
> FBI = Federal Bureau of Investigation  
> WY = "Whiskey Yankee", intelligence code for White House personnel only  
> TS-SCI = clearance to look at "Top Secret" information
> 
> **Email addresses**  
>  lena.luthor@whitehouse.gov = President Lena K. Luthor, 46th president of the United States  
> kara.zorel@krypton.mil = Kara Zor-El Danvers AKA Supergirl, commissioned in Krypton's Military Guild in September 2020 after the Multiverse Crisis. Stationed on Earth.  
> diana@themiscrya.gov = Diana, Princess of Themiscrya AKA "Wonder Woman", fighting for love and truth and the uplift of women in Man's World  
> hippolyta@themiscrya.gov = Hipployta, Queen of Themiscra  
> redhead.elvis@gmail.com = Alex Danvers  
> slippery.sam@gmail.com = Sam Arias  
> eliza.danvers@johnhopkins.edu = Eliza Danvers (first mom)  
> steers.and.queers@gmail.com = Senator-elect Jenny Hex (D-TX)  
> witchy.bird@titans.org = Raven, former Teen Titan  
> jessie.quick@starlabs.com = Jessie Quick, AKA "The Flash" (Originally Earth-90)  
> m.morzz@mars.gov = M'Gann M'orzz, Spokeswoman for the Unified Martian Government (White Martian defector, former Green Martian rebel)  
> annisa.pierce@naacp.org = Anissa Pierce AKA "Thunder", Head of the WOmen's and Youth Taskforce with the NAACP  
> jess.haung@lcorp.com = The one who put Kara Danvers on The List(tm) when she came to visit Lena, and also acting CEO of L-Corp

**January 21st, 2021, 12:23pm, Washington DC, White House**

One of the senior stewards jogs up to Lena as she approaches, a pretty twenty-something redhead. One who does not look like she has experience in hospitality but _does_ look like a moldy old man's eye candy.

"Madam President, I am glad to welcome you but we didn't have enough time. Perhaps you could stay in your temporary arrangement in Midvale?"

"You had as much time as you always do."

"Yes, well, uh, it's taken longer than...I'm afra-"

"Stop!" Lena shouts. "I don't care if he's in the Oval Office. Get him a nudie mag or a baby bottle or hire a stripper. Whatever it takes. Keep him out of my way. I have work to do."

She blows past the sputtering girl and spots two spiffy black men in white suits, probably sixty, waiting by one of the doors.

"Gentlemen, you look like you've been here a while."

"This whole sunny afternoon," one replies.

"I meant you look like you've worked here a while."

"That too."

"And I'm sure you know every little cranny of this place."

"Sure do."

One of them turns his gaze nervously to his boss who is all but tearing her extensions out behind Lena.

"Don't look at her, look at me. If she gives you any shit for this today, she's not your boss tomorrow."

"What do you need, ma'am?"

"Bare minimum?" Lena muses. "Folding table, folding chair, phone, laptop."

"I'm sure we can do better than that."

"Thank you. Help yourselves to whatever's in the executive freezer when you're done. However many scoops you like," she jokes.

Lena holds out her hand.

"Harold, John...lovely to meet you. Thank you."

They both seem surprised that she knows their names. Michelle Obama gave Lena an excellent rundown of the real engine of this place: the mostly black, underpaid stewards, cooks, maids and so on. She can't possibly compare to seeing a first family with life experiences so she's going to do the next best thing and treat them like they were the fourth branch of government.

* * *

Kara superspeeds into the Queen's bedroom and takes a look around. It's lovely. Enough couches and chairs for them all and a bed they could take turns eating Lena out in or all sleep in if they cuddled close. A table they could split a pizza on, long as someone had Lena on their lap. In short, exactly the right size.

She throws the curtains open.

_Who lived in here, a vampire?_

"Hey!" someone shouts from behind her.

She whips around.

_Worse. A hungover racist._

"Stephen Miller," she grumbles. "You're on my bed."

"N-n-no I'm not."

"Right this second, your boss is being hauled, half-naked or so I hear, out of my lady's office. I just got finished backhanding a dozen heavily armed fascists in broad daylight. Don't make me go for a baker's dozen. Don't make me brainstorm what I might do to a fascist alone, in a room, with no one to witness it. I'm trying to have a good day. So just get your racist, slimy little carcass up, pick up your pizza boxes and shitty booze."

"You immigrants are all al-"

"LEAVE!" she bellows, flashing her eyes.

He throws a bottle of whiskey at her. She flies up and snags it before it even makes a full turn end-over-end and spills anything.

_Rao, I almost feel sorry for his fiance with that temper. Almost._

Kara turns the bottle, wafts the scent of it and sets it on the mantle. It's actually good stuff. Maybe she can share it with Lena later.

"Did you actually think that would work?" 

"Uh, I suppose not."

"Right answer. I won't kill you. But I'm getting really good at this. Last September, I learned I can hit a target the size of one of the hairs you used to have from low orbit. I can hit something way smaller, if it's holding still. Meaning two quick pulses and I could cauterize a couple veins in your pelvic area. Take you three visits to a urologist and four surgeries before you could get an erection again. It would look like a blood clot."

"You hairy psycho dyk-"

She lets her heat vision flare, again and again, and Miller yelps in pain, covering his crotch. The burn marks on the fabric are the width of her thumb but the holes are the size of sewing pins.

"It'll be six surgeries now. Go, if you value your remaining hair."

She sits on the bed, then flops back. She pulls out her phone -- she doesn't qualify for a secure one yet -- and holds it up for face recognition.

"Not recognized."

"Oh, right."

She relaxes, letting her eyes cool. The phone unlocks. If she knows Lena, she's starting to get overwhelmed, especially since she couldn't keep breakfast down. She is human, much as she denies it.

From: kara.zorel@krypton.mil

Subject: So far, so good

To: lena.luthor@whitehouse.gov

My love, _khuhtov vaena_ , _gra mo chroi_ ,

I am so proud of you, I can hardly find the words to explain it. I will tidy up and make our house a home while you do what you to best: do good.

Be brave. Trust your heart. So many people want you to succeed.

Always and Forever Yours,

Kara Zor-El

=====

Melania looks _empty_ to Sam. She actually did snap her fingers once to check if she'd had a seizure. She found her up here, worrying the hem of a $10,000 coat with her chipped nails and staring into space. Barron took a liking to Ruby's superhero outfit, so she stayed in vigilante mode and lured him outside to link up with the First Nannies or whatever that job is called. Barron reminded Sam of an article she read in college about someone who took a baby monkey and raised it in a cage with no social contact.

"I not first lady?" she asks, haltingly.

"'Fraid not."

"Is he still president?"

"No."

"What will happen to me?" she asks.

Sam unzips her suit far enough to get at the hidden pocket above her sports bra. She takes out an etched aluminum card.

"I asked a dozen of my CEO friends and my whole book club. These are full stop, the best divorce lawyers in America. The top one, there, the top phone number?"

"Yeah?" Melania mumbles.

"They are a couple. Willing to do it pro-bono, 'on general lesbian principle' they said. Pro bono means.."

"It's Latin for 'for free'," Melania cuts in. "English is my weakest language."

Sam floats down and then takes a nearby chair.

"Honey, if there was ever someone with the cause to nullify a pre-nup, I'm looking at her."

"Thank you."

Melania launches off the bed, hugs Sam tight, and gradually sags.

"You weren't innocent in all this, you know."

"I know. My son was."

"Yeah, at least he was."

=====

There's a gust of wind and another piece of paper appears on the side of the table near Lena's coffee.

"Thank you!" she calls out.

A svelte, red-and-gold blur streaks back into the room, kisses Lena's cheek, and leaves.

Lena chews her lip and then picks up her new cell phone. It's god-awful but after all the crap Hilary Clinton went through for having a personal phone, and the damage Trump's iPhone did, it's the right thing. 

She taps out a message to the Joint Chiefs. She reaches for her latte and realizes she's picking up a new, entirely untouched one with probably twice the whipped cream. Someone asked Kara about her stress eating, which means someone knew Kara would know that. Harry hasn't left her side since she introduced herself. He's never been underfoot but he's correctly guessed every one of her needs except for the allergy medication inhaler in her purse and him knowing _that_ would be weird.

"Hmm," she sighs. "Lovely. Would you mind asking around for me? I need a secure room and I'm guessing he's still got the Situation Room filled with his porno stash or something."

"Yes, ma'am."

> **\- National Security Council -**
> 
> **Briefing on "Children of Liberty" pro-human group.**
> 
> **Requested 1/21/2021 by POTUS**
> 
> **Classification: WY**
> 
> **Capabilities: TBD  
>  **
> 
> **Numbers: TBD**
> 
> **Locations: National City, others (TBD)**
> 
> **Notable Members: Otis Graves (deceased), Mercy Graves (deceased), Ben Lockwood ~~(at large)~~ (in custody)**

"The hell?" Lena mumbles.

She flips through the rest. It's next to nothing. Half of it could come off the group's webpage. Meaning that either the person compiling it is a sympathizer or the previous administration never allowed any intel to be gathered.

"Why would...fuck!"

Lena picks the phone back up and calls her temporary chief of staff.

"Every intelligence head, plus FBI, plus ATF, in my office, tomorrow, 9am. Tell them they have some answering to do or I nominate replacements."

Lena throws the paper over her head.

_Well, I just have to use the honor system on whether these genocidal fucks have anything left in the chamber because why on earth would anyone keep tabs on violent white men with known ties to Lex's plot to invade America?_

She pushes herself up form the card table -- it was as bad as she'd guessed -- and walks over to the wall.-mounted intercom.

"Can you see if you can find me someone who can explain security clearance? Have them meet me in the east room."

Lena chews on her lip. She needs to do something and she can't. Officially she has all the power but with his fat ass and his greasy hands smeared all over the building, she doesn't have the tools. She can't make a phone call containing top secret information because the dining room doesn't have one. She can't talk to the CIA or the FBI because this room isn't secure enough. She can't go to their headquarters because the building is in lockdown after the bombing. She can't get her girls together to brainstorm because she hasn't gotten an update on their security clearance. She can't check on the progress on divesting her assets because her whole pitch was being a billionaire who would actually do the job right and until all her assets are in a blind trust, that doesn't pass the smell test.

If her opponent in the election was a decent man, she would have sorted this out a month ago.

"I really want to kiss Kara," Lena groans, staring up the ceiling. "I can't do that until Cat updates me."

Kara comes into the room wearing an all-black flannel shirt and pale blue jeans, wafting over the carpet like she was Casper the Sexy Ghost.

 _More like the Ghost of Wives Future,_ Lena decides. _It's all a matter of details. I'm good with details._

"I need you," Lena chokes, opening her arms.

Kara could have seduced her with hugs alone, she's so good at them.

"You have me, always. You, Lena Luthor, are a hero. For not strangling Lex in the courtroom last week, for not using your portal watch to teleport his fat orange head off his body during the debates, for doing this, for putting up with me..."

Lena laughs, wiping a tear.

Kara's face lights up in the megawatt smile and twinkling baby blues that only she can do. This will probably be trouble.

She floats over to the intercom and presses it.

"Attention, please. The president wishes to indicate that from this point forward, the official codename for her predecessor will be Orange Julius or 45* in official documents. That's forty-five asterisk."

Lena puts her hand over Kara's to keep the button down.

"It would make it so much easier to not have to keep saying his name. Thank you, and thank you all for your efforts in the transition."

She nods and Kara lets go of the button.

"Thanks babe."

Kara unfolds the other chair and sits across from Lena.

"We got this, babe. You've got seventy-two million voters behind you, Amazon and Atlantean support, surrogates and friends in the black, queer, alien, and refugee communities, the unofficial support fo the Justice League and the official support of well, us. What good would a ravishing lesbian like yourself be to the country if she didn't have some _serious_ lady love on hand, right? Gotta keep that presidential puss well greased and nicely toned."

Lena wipes her snotty nose on her hand.

"Christ, that's filthy, Kara. How goes the eviction?"

"Secret Service is onboard. We're stuck with the orange guy until they can secure Mar-a-Lago and deal with the lockdown. Through tomorrow, at minimum."

"No!" Lena whines.

"I booted the real troublemakers out first. Stephen Miller was in the Queen's Bedroom. He called me names," Kara pouts. "So, I might've done some millisecond-pulse laser surgery on the veins that drain blood from the penis. His finance ain't getting any unless she upgrades or switches teams."

Lena shoves her shoulder.

"You're bad."

Kara throws her long legs under the table and runs her shoe up and down Lena's stocking.

"Stop."

"Does it not feel good?"

"Didn't say that. Have to be presidential."

"Have my moments. Mind if I check in on where folks are at with housing? I think we all deserve a good night's sleep tonight."

"Thanks, Kara. I'll see who I have to kill to get an update on your TS-SCI clearances. I cannot _do this_ if I can't talk to my lovers about it."

"Every time the word lover comes out of those shiny lips of yours, I like the word better."

From: kara.zorel@krypton.mil

Subject: Accomodations

To: lena.luthor@whitehouse.gov, diana@themiscrya.gov, hippolyta@themiscrya.gov redhead.elvis@gmail.com, slippery.sam@gmail.com, eliza.danvers@johnhopkins.edu, steers.and.queers@gmail.com, witchy.bird@titans.org, jessie.quick@starlabs.com, m.morzz@mars.gov, annisa.pierce@naacp.org, jess.haung@lcorp.com, 

Ladies...and...Ladies,

I wanted to update you on our mutual quest for DC digs. Here's the plan for our little slumber party.

**Lena, Raven, Anissa, Jessie, M'Gann, Jenny, myself** = in the White House and cuddling Lena, obviously.  
* Jenny, Lena and I can help you house shop later. I'll rig up a holo-senator or whatever so it looks like you actually live there.  
* M'Gann, you and I do have access to the residence but not the offices. Yes, because of the alien thing. Lena's on it. Assuming you're not pretending to be a maid, please come home. Miss ya!  
* Raven, I forgot to tell them about the whole 'my dad is an evil god' thing you've got going on so we have some time to figure it out. Portal in whenever. Miss ya!

**Sam, Alex, Ruby** = Guesthouse at the Nannie Helen Burrows campus, being obnoxiously horny newlyweds and a brat, respectively.

**Hippolyta, Eliza** = Guesthouse at the Nannie Helen Burrows campus, doing things I really don't need details on.

**Jess** = LCorp DC offices, saving the world, one company at a time.

Everybody okay with that?  
  
Kara AKA "Little Miss I Saw Her First."

"Hand me my phone, please?"

Kara's hand flops around the table for a moment, ruffling through the papers. She brushes some potential executive orders onto the floor and starts to hand Lena her phone. Lena reaches up and Kara jerks it back.

"Uh-uh," she teases. "One-handed typing only. If I gotta pretend I'm not with you, I get to hold your hand at least."

"Fair enough," Lena chortles.

It takes a lot longer than she'd hoped to type the email out. And then she makes the mistake of checking for incoming email and is hit with a barrage of desperate pleas from any civil servant so dedicated as to wait Trump out. By the time she's managed to set up filters, Lena sees that the sun is low in the sky now and she is more tired than she used to be on a sixty-hour cram at MIT.

From: lena.luthor@whitehouse.gov

Subject: Save my sanity

To: cat.grant@whitehouse.gov, 

Secretary Grant,

I really need a plan on the press announcement of my relationship. We knew this was coming. I can have them all in the room if you want, or just me, or we can fly to Niagra Falls. We can pair it with Kara's reveal. Whatever. I am almost literally fending off a horny Kryptonian right now and she's just _one_ of them. So get me a plan on how were announcing this before I lose my mind and / or my vagina rebels and chews my leg off!  
  
You have until noon.  
  
Regards,  
  
President Lena Luthor

\--Hope, help and compassion for all--

She puts her phone down and lets herself relax. Just after she closes her eyes, she feels Kara lift her and move them both to the nearest couch.

"Nap. Pretty lady nap now," Kara demands.

"Whatever you want, my dear cavewoman. Whatever you want."

She rustles around, finally setting her head on Lena's breasts.

"May you sleep on the breast of your delicate friend," Lena whispers.

"Sappho has lots of good ideas," Kara yawns. "More and more people are saying that."

=====

John leans his head in the door.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"There's a plan to get the fuzzball out but it's gonna take a couple days. We should keep them comfy. Find out a favorite food or three, would ya?"

He nods towards the snoozing women.

"Cute together, huh?" Harry asks.

John nods.

"Sure are. Not sure how it works but I think my niece is in one. Polycarbonate or something?"

"Polyamorous. The other one is a kind of plastic."

John clicks his tongue.

"Thought that Google search was giving me weird shit. At least I made my niece laugh. Keep an eye on 'em, yeah? That woman just saved our lives. Deserves a little happiness in hers." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natalie Helen Burroughs school was one of the first schools specifically for black women in the country. I've decided that it's been bought by the Bana Midgall branch of the Amazons with the approval of Annissa PIerce ("Thunder" in the comics) so it can continue being a school to support little girls of color.
> 
> Kara's not sure her mom is banging Hippolyta, but Diana mentioned her mom is more smile-y than usual and both the Danvers sisters are pretty sure Eliza's "winter vacation" caused a couple of her laugh lines to reverse. They're staying in DC to "save money" whilst their Amazon, alien and human daughters have mutually agreed not to think about it.
> 
> Alex married Sam because ::waves hands at all of Season 3:: and since Sam divested assets into a blind trust to help her friend Lena be president, and since Lex got the DEO destroyed, they're not currently employed."


	3. Nocturnal Submissions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where her gals need a cuddle before the workday.

**January 22st, 2021, 01:23am, Washington DC, White House**

**  
** Lena can't sleep. It's not just that she ended up in the guest bedroom in a hard-won White House. She hardly expected Donald to suddenly mature past toddlerhood and leave. It's not the bed, which is so soft it no doubt earned several trade deals once heads of state got to try it.

It's that she's alone. The campaign trail, shuttling vaccine and doctors to and from Argo, a nasty uprising on Mars, a poltergeist outbreak in Tennesee, none of it _ever_ kept her girls from her bed. Not once, not since she met each of them. If it was bad, she'd be woken in the night just long enough for a still-hot alien body fresh from re-entry or a still-crackling sorceress to slide into her arms. She had Kara first and she's never had to spend the whole night alone since.

Lena glances at the clock.

Four hundred thirty-two days, nine hours, three to eight minutes, give or take. She's fuzzy on what time they updated their relationship status because it involved Kara responding to her text by walking in and saying 'I want you' before heat-visioning the lock on her office door and literally flying into her. Her vision blurred the moment Kara's lips met hers and after the first orgasm, she was practically blind.

She has absolutely no idea how she managed this. Only that they've been good to her, worshipful almost, and the fact that they do so must mean she deserves it. She needs it like she needs oxygen. She had three romantic relationships before she was thirty, if she includes her deeply questionable romps with Mercy Graves.

Then James, if for no other reason than he was _near_ Kara. As if she could quench the fluttering in her ribcage with someone in the penumbra. As if sleeping with one of the halo of good, decent people who surrounded her jittery Kryptonian goddess was good enough.

It wasn't, of course, though James was surprisingly fuckable. It was artistic, almost. He treated foreplay like he treated a portrait. he would linger and nibble and rub the line of her jaw, or along her cheekbone, or the dip of her lower back. Then turn her and repeat on another profile By the time he went down on her, which, bless him, was every single time, she was soaked and she felt like a masterpiece. He's on the very, very, very short list of men her lovers are allowed to bring anywhere near this arrangement.

From: cat.grant@whitehouse.gov

Subject: Save my sanity

To: cat.grant@whitehouse.gov, 

Madame President,

I have workshopped a plan. Ms Nal has lined up the friendly and or horny and or gay media (Vox, The Guardian, Washington Post, The Irish Times, Bitch, MSNBC, Pink! and Out magazines). I've brought the grumpy old white guys (Fox, NBC, CNN, Wall Street Journal) and they've been informed how it will work. 

You will enter, they will file in behind you in their civilian identities. You make your pitch on your legislative agenda and just pretend they're not there. Use lots of details and we can count on the more liberal media wanting another break at the actual issues rather than gossip. 

Question section between. I have someone planted who will ask what they are doing there. That's their cue: superhero identities, then a romantic kiss on the cheek, then more questions. I'm guessing Kara will break that cheek rule, so just try to keep it off the pornier parts of Twitter, please and thanks.

Obviously I can't tell the Fox guy what not to ask, so expect some bile there. I'll make sure they don't get out of line.  
  
I told them 10:30am, Rose Garden.

On another note, thank you for sleeping with my assistant before I got back to National City. I might have done something stupid...

  
  
Regards,  
  
Acting Press Secretary Cat Grant

\--Hope, help and compassion for all--

Lena sighs, lifting the satin pajama shirt and sliding her fingers into the equally delightful fabric of the pants.

 _I can totally do this,_ she tells herself.

It's not that she never brings herself off. It's that she hasn't done it alone since that first night with Kara. The mental portion of the act has always been across the room with a hungry, dangerous stare and her own legs spread or straddling her face, goading her, telling her how beautiful she is, asking her if she can come for them. At bare minimum, she's had her earbuds in, listening to the other woman panting down the phone line. It's been part of a game.

After probably ten minutes, she manages to get herself damp enough to get a finger inside. It only makes it worse.

"Fuck," she grumbles. "I hate this."

Lena Luthor is a woman who follows through. She strokes, she lowers a pillow that FDR probably once used between her legs and rides it like a mangy bitch in heat. She lifts her tit to her mouth and sucks and nibbles and even pulls as hard and she can tolerate.

_If Kara were here, she would've just come watching. I probably would've come from those little strangled chirps she makes._

Nothing to be done for it, Lena decides.

There's a sort of a yelping sound outside her door and a series of thumps.

Kara pushes it open the rest of the way.

"Hey, gorgeous."

"I wanna break the rules so bad," Lena whines.

"So break 'em."

"Not that easy for little old me. If you left me, you could have the next woman or man between your legs with a snap of the fingers. I lose this job and I lose you and I'm a CEO who's been out of the game too long and I'm alone. Another wastrel heiress."

"I belong to you, Lena. That oath we swore? I am yours now. My life is yours. My children, yours. My money, yours. Humans don't have a word for the psychology of it. Amazons do, probably. will never leave you. Not until the sun goes out. No, not even _then_ ," Kara hisses. "Never say those things about yourself. Never."

_Well, that tone of voice got me closer than the last thirty minutes._

"E Persei C is young. And it's a searing white dwarf. You'd sublimate to your true form in seconds in the corona. It has another twenty billion years at least."

"There's an awful lot to unpack there, Kara. Science and feelings both."

She flops down on the bed beside Lena.

"You always did like putting your feelings in boxes," Kara teases. She points in the general direction of the hallway. "Want me to go get a box cutters?"

"You're an ass."

"Speaking of," Kara jokes, sliding her hand around Lena's waist and then down, palming her ass.

"Kara," she gasps. "we can't."

"Not sex. Cuddling is presidential and you need to sleep, _khuhtov vaena_. You need to be strong tomorrow. Let us help you."

Kara clicks her tongue.

Frost crawls over the blankets as Raven appears beside Lena and stretches out in that weird, ruler-straight way she does. 

"Hi."

Adorable little snores follow soon after and the gem on her forehead throbs, slowly, like a nightlight.

Something solid and _big_ comes up through the bed, only becoming solid long enough to lift her up and wrap arms and legs around her. Four impossibly smooth, broad fingertips splay over her temples.

"M'Gann," Lena breathes, feeling her eyes slide shut. "Thank you."

"Sleep, my Lena."

Jenny peeks in. She hangs her hat on the doorknob.

"She asleep?" she asks Kara.

"Not yet," Lena mumbles, reaching out.

Jenny takes her hand and squeezes before she slides in, lying right on top of Lena. She's svelte and wiry. Lightweight. It is easier to breathe with Jenny's weight on her than it is alone. Those hands cupping her cheeks are the hands of a working cowgirl who paid her way through Harvard ranching back home in the summer. They're softer now and she only ranches for style back home but there's power and fiction and solidity in every touch. Lena kisses each palm.

"Sleep tight, darlin'"

One by one, they settle in. Kara and M'Gann fidget around a little, sharing Lena as she lays on top of them. In her White Martian form, or the hybrid green-white form she's made, M'Gann is just exactly eight feet. Kara would have been NCU's volleyball star if she wasn't trying to keep a low profile. Their bulky, silk-clad bodies form a bed on top of the sheets. One that's warm and tender and protective and makes Lena gasp as their hands hook around her hips and hold her to them. 

Jessie flickers into the room, curling up like a cat above Lena's head.

"May I catch a few winks, mistress?" Jess pleads.

"Long as you don't static up my hair, pet."

Speedsters blur when they sleep, just like Kryptonians sleep-fly. Jessie's very presence makes the whole bedrame hum slightly, loosening Lena's every muscle.

Anissa pads in, wearing a durag and bumblebee-themed pajamas that probably come a little too close to her supersuit's color scheme for secrecy's sake. She takes the other side from Raven and puts Lena's hand on her abs.

"Mmm," Lena purrs, dragging her nails across the silk and catching them in furrows of the muscles beneath. "I love these."

Anissa's hands cover hers and Lena knows no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR's NOTE #1: Why yes, I did brainstorm how seven women could semi-plausibly sleep together. This is the guest bedroom, not the Lincoln Bedroom, so it's pretty squashed.
> 
> AUTHOR's NOTE #2: This James Olsen is an extension of likable, respects women Season 1 on CBS James into the events of the CW era. Who the heck is Guardian? I'm also assuming that if he ever saw Lena half-naked as implied in that one Season 3 episode, he was worth the trouble. He's never met that actor who plays him on the show...


	4. First Day on the Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where the next couple of days are going to be rough, with or without coffee, where Lena goes full Luthor on the spies, Cat goes full Cat on the press corps, the Rose Garden is pillaged and her girls give her a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **  
> Agencies  
> **  
>  CIA = Central Intelligence Agency  
> DHS = Department of Homeland Security  
> NRO = National Reconnaissanceoffice  
> NSA = National Security Agency  
>   
>  **Acronyms**  
>  FIN-INT = Financial Intelligence, such as monitoring terrorist bank accounts  
> HUM-INT = Human Intelligence, such as spies, double agents, etc (the sexy part from movies)  
> SIG-INT = Signal Intelligence, such as wiretaps, computer hacking, intercepting transmissions

**January 22st, 2021, 06:42am, Washington DC, White House**

Lena stirs later than most of her girls. Kara sort of throbs awake the moment the sun hits her. Raven has some deep mental connection to nighttime and she really can't sleep through dawn, dusk, or sometimes the witching hour. Jenny woke at the first light of dawn like a seventh-generation farmgirl. She relocated to the table and her new senator's orientation packet is on her lap and her hat is over her face.

"Morning, sunshine."

"Fuck you," Lena groans.

"You want me fucked? Do it yourself," Jenny teases.

"Coffee," Lena grumbles. "Need coffee."

Jenny stirs properly, looking at the remnants of her breakfast. She reaches out and holds out a mug, still wearing her bright red lipstick. Because it's almost 7:00am so of course Jenny is dolled up and ready to go out.

" _Mi cafe is su cafe._ Only half, though."

"It'll get me to the kitchen. Gimme!"

After draining it, Lena nods blearily and looks around.

Raven is hovering a foot over the floor in a lotus position, murmuring in a language that makes Lena's head hurt just trying to process it. 

Anissa is on the phone, laughing softly as she describes a painting on the wall.

_Probably her sister._

Kara is doing nude yoga by the window which is a panties-soaking show on a good day but it's bittersweet when Lena can't join her for her own workout or touch her. 

Jessie is lacing up her Nikes.

"Back soon," she promises with a staticky, high-speed peck on the lips.

"Slow down, young lady!" Harry chortles from the hallway.

There's a series of terrifying crashing sounds and then Jessie comes back up the stairs, nursing what looks like a sprained ankle.

"Kara..." she snarls.

"Yes, babe?" 

Kara doesn't break her downward dog or as Lena thinks of it 'dinner is served'.

Jessie smacks Kara's upraised butt and Kara loses her focus and hits the mat face-first.

"Why is there a concussed orange pervert on the staircase? I could've broken my neck!"

Kara rolls over on her back and smiles up at the ceiling.

"Memories. Short version, I caught him outside Lena's room playing squeeze the baby carrot."

"Gonna be sick," Jenny chokes. "I did not need that image."

"Soon as I saw the door was opened and he was watching her, I decided not to ask for help. Grabbed a spare mattress, threw it on the stairs. Kicked him in the carrots and onions and booted him right on his pasty ass. Figured it would break his fall and it did."

Lena bonks her forehead on the baseboard.

"You assaulted the president."

"Former president. The Secret Service guy said that they didn't have a protocol for one president committing a sex crime in the presence another and thanked me for my precaution to see that his neck wasn't broken. Nothing broken, no paperwork, no congressional hearings to add a new rule."

Lena bonks her head again. M'Gann grabs her shoulders and hauls her back.

"I have melded with many human minds on this planet," she purrs. "This one is the most beautiful. Do not damage it."

"Fine. I'm going to go locate breakfast. I'll have a wheelbarrow of pastries sent up for Jessie and Kara. I need all of you in the temp office at 9:45 and then we have a Rose Garden thing at 10:30."

Kara drags herself upright and beckons to the still pouting speedster.

"C'mere, Jess. I'll kiss it better..."

Lena scurries away before she can see what happened _after_ the speedsuit landed on the lampshade.

Harry -- no, John -- is outside.

_I really do need coffee. They don't even really look alike. That or my pre-caffeine brain has unaddressed racism issues..._

"Please tell me they don't make you stand here all night."

"No ma'am, my shift is six to six. Just got back."

"Good. Kitchen? Any kitchen?"

"We did get the squatters out of the first family's kitchen. I'll show you the way."

"Thanks."

"Hope you don't mind my saying, Madam President, but you don't seem too interested the pomp and circumstance. Why's that?"

Lena sniffs. Inhaler, first thing when she gets back.

"I was raised on an honest-to-god sheep farm in County Dublin till I was four, then mum died. I was taken in by the Luthors. Lillian was a cruel woman. Beat me every other day, told me I was garbage every day. As it turned out, she was a serial killer with a bank account. My brother was my hero. Then he went nuts. I wasn't allowed to leave the manor except for school until I was sent away to boarding school at fourteen. Wood paneling and antique chairs make me twitchy. Lot of bad memories in fancy rooms."

He hums thoughtfully.

"Makes sense. The first family is allowed to redecorate, you know. Up to a point. MIght do you some good."

"I know," Lena sniffs. "Haven't had the time. There's a bunch of no-good punks squatting in the house. And I'm a white girl who hasn't had a sugary coffee yet. So I'm basically worthless."

"Sure it's not that bad. My niece's girlfriend is almost as white as you are. She manages."

"You'll have to introduce me sometime."

"She's likely to faint when I do. Here we are."

Lena is shown into the kitchen where the most French pastry chef in history is demonstrating the finer points of some sort of chocolate and strawberry breakfast bread to his assistant and a giant of a woman with red hair and green eyes is working the stoves. Not so much fat as just plain _big_ with big hips and big, hard-working arms and a big, friendly face. Amazingly, she's working three stoves worth of pancakes and bacon at once.

"Madam President!" she all but yelps. "We were not expecting you."

 _County Limerick accent. Still got it!_ Lena thinks.

"At ease. Looking for coffee," Lena explains.

"French press, over there."

"May I?"

"I would be honored, _madame_."

Lena takes Jessie's cup, refills it, drains it and then pours the remainder in.

_Two and two-thirds. Have to be enough._

"My thanks. I plan on introducing myself to you all, more pleasantly, later this week."

She opens the can, dumps some more grounds in the press, fills it and walks away.

"I like her," the ginger matron decides. "She obviously was raised right. Turned out right, at least."

"She's ravishing, no?" the chef teases his assistant, elbowing her.

"Stop," she whines, blushing and elbowing him back.

Lena has never been so glad to be eavesdropping.

=====

**January 22st, 2021, 09:00, Washington DC, White House**

**Oval Office**

  
Glancing at what appears to be a smear of ketchup, Lena thinks better of actually sitting at the desk.

_I hope that's mayonnaise._

She leans up against the desk and folds her hands, keeping her breathing slow and trading dizziness for beating back the panic attack. On days like today, folding her hands is the only way to prevent her from fidgeting with them that doesn't involve a woman's tongue, lips or fingers.

"I will be blunt, gentlemen. I don't trust you, and that's a problem for us and for the country. Anyone with a web browser knows that most of the actual patriots and experts left this government ages ago and anyone who stood up was replaced with a lackey that didn't even need to pass McConnell's smell test. I see no reason to retain any of you. But, as a manager, I've learned that sometimes it's good to be proven wrong. This..."

She rattles the one-page report on the Children of Liberty.

"Is not acceptable. This group didn't appear yesterday. They've existed for at least three years and were all but deputized for four months. So, the fact that this is basically a printout of their website worries me. Where's our SIG-INT, HUM-INT, FIN-INT on these guys? I see three options. One. You were protecting your fellow fascists from scrutiny. If so, man up and admit it. You turn in your credentials, to me, before you leave this room."

The guy from the NSA swallows nervously. The Homeland Security guy is checking his exits.

"Is that it?"

They all shake their heads.

"Two. You learned the hard way not to put things in presidential briefings that might get your funding cut. I can understand the instinct to protect employees, believe me. If so, break that fucking habit and give me the good the bad and the ugly. I can handle it. Unclench and get what you have on my desk. Fast."

The Navy guy and the woman from Marine Corps Intelligence nod curtly.

_That's a fucking start._

"Three. After the exodus, you don't have the people power. If that's it, I'm happy to help. Get me names, ladies and gentlemen. I'm sending my first nominations to the hill tomorrow and by next week, I'll have a supermajority at my back."

"Anyone?"

"Very well. Wait here."

She ducks out and goes over to the typing pool -- why is there a typing pool in 2020? -- and locates Kara amid a pack of fawning bisexuals of both genders. 

"Well?"

"DHS and NSA were lying, full stop. CIA, fire on general principle. NRO, fifty-fifty odds and he's an engineer by trade. Probably not the best liar anyway. Boot the first two, put someone on his tail to find out."

"What else?"

"The leatherneck was about to ovulate, I think. I could hear her pulse spike when you raised your voice."

"Kara!"

Kara shrugs.

"I hear what I hear. Ladies..." she croons. "Gentlemen..." she adds.

"Madame President."

She kisses Lena's cheek in a non-platonic way and walks off.

"Oh," Lena mumbles, reaching up to touch the white-hot tingle on her skin. 

The brunette in the front row holds her palm out and her fellows slap cash into them.

"Told ya it was a sucker's bet. Do you need anything from us, ma'am?"

Lena shakes her head. Words are going to be a problem for the next hour or so but she hopes she can muddle through.

She nods at her detail, who open the doors.

"Miss Haspel, Mister Wolf, General Nakasone, you're fired. Credentials," she demands.

Fuming, they hand her their badges.

"Your effects will be brought to you from your offices by _qualified_ personnel. You may receive subpoenas, you may not. If you do, get your asses to Congress. Dismissed."

"Major Emily Harper, congratulations. The CIA chief slot is open and you were just nominated. Get me what you have on CoL then get me a sizzle reel of your team's work so I can make the case. Everyone else, back her up. You're a team. No dick-measuring and no holding back. Get back to it."

Lena blows out every molecule of air in her lungs, gulps new air and then wobbles over to her desk. She opens drawer after drawer until she finds a clean one and tosses the badges in.

=====

Lena stands over the shoulder of man working the security clearances.

"This is the only blocker?"

"These two, yeah. Which is amazing given these are all vigilantes. Raven and Jenny's respective curses didn't blow any circuits, which was interesting."

"I know how to pick 'em," Lena jokes.

He taps his screen with his pen.

"M'Ganns history of betraying her commanders on Mars, however noble, is problematic. I did some digging. Her telepathy provides a pathway to knowing she's sincere or not. There's a sedative that was developed by CADMUS when it was a government project to put Martians in a suggestible state. There's a few doses left. She won't be able to trick people but she can show them her memories as she remembers them. The interviewer will _feel_ her intentions in their own minds."

Lena frowns.

"Don't like it but she'll do it, I'm sure. We'll destroy any remaining doses when we nuke CADMUS."

In the corner of her eye, she catches the blood leaving his face.

"Figuratively nuke them, unless something changes. What else?

"Kara's eating habits and the documented calorie needs of Kryptonians suggest she's living beyond her means as a relative newbie for a print magazine. Given that she has an unreal credit score and a choir boy's financial records, that's the only real problem."

"Eh," Lena shrugs. "She needs close supervision when she's had alien tequila."

He sputters some of his own coffee on his shirt.

"Uh, noted."

Lena runs a finger over the exceptions and the notes attached.

"Polygraph and financial records, right?"

"Multiple polygraphs and detailed re-check but yeah. They'll pass. Kara would just need to submit records and if they're from where I bet they're from, it'll be expedited."

Lena exhales and squeezes his shoulder.

"You'll have both by the end of today. Thank you so much. Soon as I can, I'm giving you a raise."

=====

Kara leans down and tilts the rose blossom back and forth, examining it from every side. It's as deep a crimson as the shield on her chest.

"Hey, there little lady. You're gorgeous. Sorry, I have to take you."

She heat-visions the stem, plops some syrup on the wound and then traces over it again to burn the wound shut.

She walks back inside.

"I feel like I'm coming out to my parents all over again," Anissa grumbles.

"On Mars, coming out wasn't a thing," M'Gann muses. "My father looked at me the day I started, let's just call it puberty and he shrugged. It's strange sometimes, how the secrets human keep hurt them. Secrets never hurt us because we never had them."

Kara takes the spot beside Raven.

"I am so nervous. Sex was basically obsolete on Krypton. I...I'm going to admit to people that I have sex. My mom will know. I mean, Alura. Space mom. Eliza already does. But Alura, I mean, I _think_ she and my dad...they _were_ sort of weirdos... My English teacher. My college roommate who I turned down! Oh, Rao!"

She starts twitching. 

Raven slaps some sort of magical field around her, stopping Kara's takeoff before it begins.

"Bad alien. Stay. No running off." 

Lena's heels click down the marble and they scramble to get their roses hidden behind their backs.

Kara loses words when Lena appears, hips rocking like a violinist's bow and her braid swinging behind her.

"After you, Madam President," Jenny offers.

Lena smiles at her. Kara squeaks.

"Jesus, get it together," Anissa teases.

They follow her out. What is else is a girl to do?

=====

"Madam President, can you tell us more about this website?"

Lena smiles.

"Certainly. We will put up a website called Countdown to 100 and on it we will track our Four Hs which are, as we've discussed: Hate, Healing, Healthcare and Home Economics. I've learned since a very young age how much broken promise hurt. In a constitutional system, I can't promise as much as I could as a CEO. But I will spend every moment I can do advance those Four H's and I will never hide my successes or my setbacks from the American People. All information not held as top secret will be presented to the public, in full, along with summaries. When the Breonna Taylor Search and Seizure Act is voted out of the committee or when the Fairness in Sentencing Act go up for a floor vote, it will show up there. When the fascist terrorists who attacked the Mall are in custody, we will post updates. As cases and hospitalizations drop and as the Thin White Line act moves through congress to honor our medical heroes and replenish their supplies, we will update you on its progress and every vote for and against. When..."

Lena flattens her hands on the podium so they can't see them shake.

"As my allies and I in congress rewrite tax law, consumer credit law and antitrust law to make sure every single mother waiting tables has as much input on our politics as I do as a billionaire, I will update you on my progress there as well. I inherited almost a hundred billion dollars when I was eighteen. Lex's terrorism was wicked but the wealth that enabled it was no better. That amount of money should never have been in the hands of a college freshmen. It should never have been in any two hands at all. I haven't shared this widely but my goal is to die with exactly enough to my name to cover my funeral."

As she'd hoped, that created another series of murmurs between the reporters.

A woman with a hot pink swept-over haircut strands up.

"Yes, would you introduce yourself please?"

"Alison Collins, Pink Magazine."

"Nice to meet you. Your question?"

"During the campaign, it was noted that you had what seemed to be an all-female brain trust with you, more or less twenty-four seven. They traveled on your plane or your bus. They toured the cities while you spoke to voters. In fact, they made no appearances at any time that were not with you. I see they are here with you today. Could you help clarify this situation for the American people? Are you planning on filling out your cabinet with your gal pals?"

Other reporters shrug. Allision just smirks.

"Second question first. No. With the exception of Senator-elect Hex, none of these women will hold an official title, or draw a paycheck. They will listen to me -- I hope and pray -- and be sounding boards and offer their ideas but they are to supplement officials and experts, not replace them."

"I see. Why?"

Lena looks over her shoulder. Kara squares up and nods.

"No time like the present, I suppose."

She walks over to Kara and slow pops two shirt buttons.

"Kara Zor-El, of Krypton. Heir to the House of El. Supergirl."

She spreads the fabric. Flashbulbs singe Lena's eyes.

She moves to Raven.

"Raven, an orphan girl who rather literally went through hell and escaped to become one of the founder of the Teen Titans."

"Anissa Pierce, NAACP board member. To the people of Freeland, Thunder."

She spreads Anissa's button-down to reveal the black-and-yellow armor underneath. Anissa produces her domino mask and visor from fuck only knows where in those painted-on jeans.

"Senator Hex is also known in and around El Paso as Gunslinger or in Jaurez's slums, trafficking victims know her as _Santa de Fuego_. The Saint of Fire."

Jenny brushes her jacket back to reveal an empty holster of jet black deerskin.

"I didn't bring great-granddad's magic guns, I'm afraid," she jokes. "Shooting demonstrations are on the menu for constituent visits."

"You all know who Jessie Quick is."

"Hey! I'm important!"

Lena rolls up Jessie's sleeve -- there's no way to reveal the suit without revealing nipples -- and reveals the ceramic and the lighting bolt.

"Oscar nominee for her work in _Spiderman: Carnage_ and in real life, she is also the Flash."

"M'Gann M'orrz. The Last Daughter of Mars. Hero of the Hak'var valley prison break."

M'Gann simply shifts, making the front row gasp and shuffle their seats back. She grins and they calm down, just enough that Lena notices.. M'Gann wasn't a green and she hated being a white so she singlehandedly created a new hybrid which many of her rebels later adopted. She carefully tuned her hulking, white-and-green striped true form with her lovers, eventually settling on slimmer limbs and flat, obviously plant-eating teeth.

Kara whistles sharply and before Lena can stop them, seven brilliant longstem roses are produced and offered to her. Kara goes down onto her knee.

"Lena Luthor, _khutov vaena,_ will you have me, have us, until our dying breath?"

Lena's shaking hand covers her mouth.

"All of you. In a heartbeat."

"America!" she calls out with the last of her willpower. "Meet your new first ladies!"

"Madam President!" half a dozen men shout at once.

Kara bounces up and pulls Lena to her. Rose in one hand, she dips her with the other, claims her lips and drinks in every gasp Lena has.

Cat Grant swoops in.

"The president will not be answering further questions but I will. This is clearly a very emotional moment for her. You."

"Joan Thompson, Bitch Magazine. Are there any wedding plans?"

"Not for lack of hoping," Cat quips, nodding at the sobbing, laughing mess behind her. "Or for lack of friends nagging them. As for legal marriage, ask the Supreme Court."

"You."

"Reverend Wallace, Family First Media."

Cat leans over the podium and stares him down.

"Stop right there. Your media group is affiliated with Focus on the Family which the Southern Poverty Law Center, the American Civil Liberties Union and the Anti-Defamation League consider a hate group with a transphobic, homophobic and misogynistic bent. You may submit written questions to my office."

"What do you have to say for yourself, Miss Luthor? What do you say to the children of America? The children you are supposed to be modeling morality for? Who you are supposed to be protecting from sin and depravity?"

Cats fingers go white on the podium.

"Sit. Down. You had the rules explained to you, you chose not to follow them. You also chose to not acknowledge that she is the president. Any more shouting and I'll remove you and find a pool boy to spank you with a Bible, or as you call it Saturday night."

Reverend Wallace flops back into his chair, having lost most of the blood in his face. Titters of laughter surround him.

"Yes, you."

"Rachel Maddow, MSNBC. How does the administration plan to deal with the insurance industry when it comes to public options in healthcare?"

"Fox News, et al., take notes. That's how you ask a useful question that actually matters in the lives of other people."

"Well, Rachel..."

=====

Lena is herded down the hallway by a flock of smiling women, bouncing like a pinball in pajamas. They careen past President Trump's badly bruised face and into the movie theater. Lena sees the blue flash in Kara's eyes reflect in the mirror as Trump passes. 

_Like a lioness protecting her mate. I hope._

This time, Trump takes the hint, stopping to talk to an imaginary publicist on a non-existent phone.

She looks around the theater. The entire place is the adorkable version of a sultan's harem. There's probably two dozen corduroy beanbags, futons, body pillows, a mini-fridge, a bowl of fruits, piles of cozy looking throw blankets. The locked toybox with the N-th metal latches does lead to questions.

"Weren't there movie theater seats in here before?" Lena asks.

"No idea," Kara replies, stuffing popcorn into her face. "But it's one of like, three rooms except for the Lincoln bedroom with no cameras."

"Oof!" she exclaims as Kara pulls her onto her lap and tips them both backward.

Jenny hoists her Lone Star, pours some skittles into it and whoops.

"Hit it, Johnny-o!"

The lights go down and Lena is drawn onto a pile of women and beanbags and blankets, perhaps never to be seen again.

"Fun fact," Kara says. "I remembered how you liked old detective novels and it got me thinking that our family needs home movies. Oh also I discovered that Ken Burns will do documentaries for the low, low price of a quick trip to the moon. It's going to be at least a trilogy."

The movie is black and white.

There's a long-legged, smooth-shaven fellow sitting in his office, feet on his desk, and a fedora hat covering his face. The bottle of whiskey is two-thirds empty and a thirty-eight is sitting beside it.

"They call me Jay," the voiceover begins. "and I'm a private eye. Right now, I got a bruise for every dime to my name and I got near two bucks in my pocket. Have a notch on my gun for every wise guy thought I was his."

The hat tips up and unmistakably, it's Jenny.

"Pause!" Lena shouts.

"How?" she demands, rounding on Jenny.

"Talk to her," Jenny mumbles, indicating Jessie. "I'm just here to play with your hair. Mmm, silky."

"Kryptonian level deepfakes, mostly. Little bit of illusion magic from Raven. We actually did the voices," Jessie replies. "I did everybody's stunts except M"Ganns. Kara's tech, that old black magic that is showbiz and acting classes form yours truly."

"OK, that makes sense. How about when?"

"We snuck it in a few hours at a time. When you were holed up with pollsters or in diners. Shit. Nobody tell Marvel I was in this, OK?"

"Oh my god," Lena chortles. "Play!"

The doorknob turns and not-Jenny sits up, her hand hovering over her gun.

"I wasn't exactly rolling in dough but I wasn't desperate. That's what I told myself anyway. Then she walks in."

The door opens and Lena sees herself, in black and white, in the strapless, cleavage-flashing red dress from the L-Corp gala all those years ago, before she and Kara were even dating.

"Lena Luthor. Orphan. Heiress. Inventor. The worst kind of trouble that feels like the best kind. Her voice hit me like sippin' whiskey mixed with sleeping pills. She had a smile. The sort of smile that makes you think you'd thank her for slapping you. She was smooth and pale as piano keys and curved as a cello. She was soft and she was deep, from those green eyes to the Valley of Paradise and Lace and if it weren't the angels holding up that dress, it weren't anything at all."

"Now, in a situation like that, a lady's first thought is usually something she needs to tell her priest about after a stiff drink and a cold shower. Problem with that was, I had a nasty feeling she was here to hire me."

Lena elbows Jenny.

"Ham."

"Kara wrote it," Jenny whispers back.

"I need your help, Miss Hex. It's my brother."

"Everbody knows Senator Luthor," the voiceover adds. "I'd say he's proof mankind descends from apps but apes have more hair and more manners."

Lena snorts her Coke right up her nose and ends up wheeze-laughing while Kara rubs her back.

"Why do you think that, Miss Luthor?"

"Well," she begins, leaning over the desk. The camera pans to over Not-Jenny's shoulder and Lena realizes anyone watching this will know the director knew what the actress looked like naked. This isn't art, this camerawork. This is just animal lust in designer clothes.

_Flattering, but this would be NC-17 if it ever went public._

"Usually, he leaves me alone but I think he wants me in Washington for Christmas. I think I could do with someone on my arm for the gala tomorrow. Someone who knows how to look out for herself."

Not-Lena nods at the pistol.

"Hundred a day, upfront. Anything rough is extra. Doesn't matter what kind of rough."

"That much?" Not-Lena asks.

"It's five hundred if it ain't a dame."


	5. Executive Order 189813: Restoring Respect and Ensuring Excellence in Social Media Spaces

I just want to take the time to thank all of my commenters, whether or not they have concerns about my work, who keep it positive and fun. Many times, your overnight comments or comments from international readers literally get me out of bed so I can get my glasses and respond. Other times, comments have boosted me in dark days or kept me back from depression, particularly in the Age of Plague we are in right now.

Please don't be personal or hurtful in your comments. I don't want to have to go moderated comments because I want you to see each other's comments, and mine, in real-time and build a community without me having to have a whole new thing to track and deal with. 

You're **allowed **to not like things. You're **allowed **to say that. 

Constructive criticism will be listened to and if agreed with, added in. It's already happened. Story beats I never thought of have been used. Trigger warnings I missed have been incorporated and in some cases, the content has been removed or much reduced.

You're **not allowed** to get rude, graphic, dismissive or _ad hominem_ to me and hat goes **double** for each other. Thus far, none of my commenters have gone after _each other_ , thank the Goddess. Just know that if I see you sniping at each other in my comments, or just hammering on each other without listening to each other, I delete the comments. I will protect myself in the same way.

I do this for free because I love it and I believe fanon has the power to heal what canon leaves confused, unfulfilling, or hurtful. So let's not be hurtful to each other, please. Fanfiction is an emerging art form and I bet it'll only get bigger in the internet age. It's popular because of our passion and because it allows us to make things happier.

* * *

**Executive Order 189813: Restoring Respect and Ensuring Excellence in Social Media Spaces**

In these dark times, I implore all Americans live by my beloved Kara's words.  
  
 _El Mayarah. Shahrrehth, vokai, chao urkynon osh ju._ | Stronger together. Hope, help, and compassion for all.

  
It is so ordered.

  
**Presdient Lena K. Luthor, Jan 22nd, 2021**

[ ](https://fontmeme.com/signature-fonts/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone has any experience, ANY, in writing fic with Kryptonian translations, I will offer you my firstborn for some help with that.  
> Applications for betas/editors are **open**. We'll see if that works with my cracked-out-ferret posting scheduled but I'd like to.


	6. Power Corrupts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where that old Luthor DNA is put to good use, Lena gets both instant karma and electoral karma, and there are some weird feelings floating about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is both a sexy work and a happy work. Any of the Superfriends or comic book hero(ines) I brought in are **safe** , **sexy** , big on **consent** and think sex is something to **practice, perfect, and enjoy**. Those are my criteria for possible trysts in this White House.
> 
> **Trigger Warning: Nonconsensual touching.**
> 
> This chapter has men in quasi-sexual situations in it. Any chapters with truly sexytimes will have tags at the top indicating what, which genders and characters, and a plot summary for those who wish to skip them will be in the end notes.  
> 

**Washington DC, Jan 23rd 2021, 2:38pm, White House**

James cracks the Oval Office door open. Inside, Lena is leaning against the Resolute Desk, facing her guest's chairs. It's become her signature move. She doesn't _hide_ even behind her well-earned desk. Kara is leaning beside her, head tilted close, and they're whispering to each other. Jessie is pacing at the far end of the room, wringing her hands giving the sort of bottled-lighting anxiety that only a speedster puts off.

He never really expected to hear from Lena again, unless professionally, certainly didn't expect Kara to let him photograph her. Kara will share Lena's private, unguarded moments with him and not just for campaign photo purposes. Yet another way Kara's big heart inspires him.

"You wanted to talk about a portrait, Miss Luthor?"

She turns away from Kara with a peck on the cheek.

"Mmm. Give us the room, babe? Babes?"

Kara kisses Lena again as does Jessie though she also gets cheeky, unbuttoning Lena's jacket and the top three buttons of her blouse. James can see an apple red stripe of shiny fabric at the edge of the gap.

"You might want to," he mumbles. "Uh, cover-up first."

"You've seen them before, James," she teases. 

That smirk is no less of a turn on two years out.

"Taken a lot of photos of the sunset, too," he quips. "Always find something new and amazing."

Lena rolls her eyes.

"Actually, I lied," she admits. "I do need you as a photographer, but not yet."

"What, then?"

Lena pushes off the desk and walks towards him. Her hips sway wide and she isn't buttoning back up, she's popping the next one.

"Camera. On the table, now."

Another button undone.

_Christ._

"Are you sure Kara..."

"Her idea," Lena replies.

"Uh, right."

She bumps him up against the wall and runs a hand around his ass. Her hand is frisky and she's gripping hard and her long neck is tilted back so he can see her eyes.

"Remember that conference in Malta?" she purrs.

It was just like this. Lena, fresh off of closing out a half-dozen shitty investors and bringing all but a scrap of L-Corp under her control. Stalking barefoot across the hotel room with a dangerous look. Curved and milky and soft and needy as she buried his hand in her hair and guided him through letting it out of the ponytail. It was like being stalked by a white tiger, something rare and wild. By the time he caught her in the corner of his eye while he was snapping some close-ups of the seagulls, she was two steps away. He was done for.

Her huffing breath brings him back to the present. Her other hand comes around the front and she starts on his belt. He doesn't remember exactly how baseball worked, nor multiplication and he's worried she'll notice.

"Not interested?" she pouts.

"God, Lena. Of _course_ I am. You're _you._ You're crazy and brilliant and brave and uhhhhh-"

"Good," she hums. "That's what I wanted. Just relax."

His gasp never makes it all the way out his throat because she gets her hand inside his boxers. He remembers those fingers all too well. She could make a pinch of the cheeks or a flick of her nails into something much darker and more dangerous. This, she can make sweeter and more wicked than sin.

"Change places," she demands, unzipping and dropping her suit's trousers. "Lift me up. Hurry."

_This is too fast. Something's up. Isn't it?_

He would worry but Lena is amazing and she moves his palms to her breasts under her bra and it's soft and heavy and creamy and spills out of his hand except when it's fat and stiff and tickles his palms. He forgets how to think. Awkwardly, they reverse positions until she's against the wall with her legs locked around him.

"Missed me?" she jokes, rolling her hips as if to remind him what comes next.

_Something's up. She knows I did. Kara's scolded me for it fifty times._

"Don't you have an appointment?"

"Yeah. So you've got to finish first."

He can feel her heat and her wetness and her hands are fiddling with her panties and God Almighty, he wants to. He leans down and kisses her forehead.

"How about after?"

"Excuse me?"

"I don't think this is the way to do this, Lena. Kara's OK with it, fine. Jessie? M'Gann? Anissa? More scared of her than the rest of 'em."

"Not acceptable," she sniffs.

"What that mean? My choice too," he reminds her.

His hands release her hips. 

Lena sags, he helps her safely down the wood until she's slumped against the floor. She fishes out her phone.

"I needed an _alibi,_ James. You were the only man I ever _liked_ sleeping with. Well, Jack, but he's dead."

"Nice to hear. This isn't a forever no, gorgeous. Certainly isn't a 'go to hell', never hearing that from me. But what's this really about?"

"Congresswoman Walters."

"Wait, wait, wait. Back up. What does that wrinkled lunatic have to do with where you and I are at?"

"She thinks I'm platonic with the others and I need her vote on something."

"Not following."

Lena hands him her phone with an article from a batshit 'purity' website about Christian bride grooming pulled up. It clicks. It's so disgusting he nearly drops her phone.

He zips up, fixes himself the best he and slumps down beside her. She holds out her hand and he takes it.

"Lena, luscious, you're better than that. What's next, she wants to see the placenta?"

Lena snorts.

"Probably. But she's only in office until the mail-ins are counted. Unless she wins."

James clicks his tongue.

"Democratic governor, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"There's one way I'm willing to be a part of this."

He leans in and whispers.

"Oh James," she teases. "That's fucking heartless. Wish I'd met you in boarding school..."

"Jessie!" she hollers. "Come here, please?"

James is faced with a tall, deeply annoyed blonde before he can blink. From this angle, Jessie seems to fill the room to the ceiling. 

"Come with me, tall, dark and minty-smelling. We're short on time. And we _will_ talk about why Lena's crying later on."

James stands up and she grabs him and superspeeds him into the men's room.

"Stall, now."

She pulls a small foil pouch with a screw-on lid from a compartment in her supersuit.

"Is that...lube? In your superhero suit?"

"An ex-Girl Scout is always prepared," Jessie jokes. "You did have a thing with Winn for a while, right?"

James nods.

"Great. No heteronormative whining!"

=====

Jessie struts back into Lena's office, her supersuit in camouflage mode. It's transparent, broadcasting images of what's under it. Meaning Lena can see, projected across fiber optics, the skin under her deliciously low-cut blouse. 

Jessie beelines for the disinfectant wipes and cleans her right index finger with a passion.

"Is that..."

Jessie hands over the condom.

"Fresh squeezed. Poor guy."

"I doubt that," Lena chuckles.

An arc of lightning travels up Jessie's palm to her fingers.

"Oh, Christ. That probably hurt."

Jessie nods.

"Are you sure he's...on the list? He's complicated for you, mistress."

"Check with the others but if you want to make it up to him, you can approach him, yes."

"Great. He promised to be functional for your 2:45pm."

Lena unbuttons her trousers, takes the condom and grimaces.

_Better set-up and some honesty with James and I could've enjoyed this._

"Make sure we get other cameras in here too, please."

Jessie salutes and blurs away.

=====

"Congresswoman Walters, a pleasure."

Lena offers her hand and the old bat takes it. Joannie is the product of ninety years of Bible poisoning, ever-more-extreme primary tests, and a truly bent Christian upbringing. One that simultaneously says she was obligated to bring pecan pie and that it's okay for parents to ask for virginity tests from gynecologists.

"You scared me yesterday, young lady."

"Oh?"

"Back when you were on the trail and talking 'bout farm the bill, you said you were straight."

"I actually said I've been with men, yes. Known them," Lena teases, "as they say in the Book of Genesis."

Kara rolls her eyes from her place over by the flag.

"Swear it?" Walters demands.

"Seems a weird thing to be under oath about but if subpoenas come, yes. I thought we're here to talk about percentages on ranching federal lands?"

Walters steps into Lena's personal space. Deeply into her personal space. She sniffs. The Secret Service guys tense up and Lena waves her hand to keep them back. Whatever else Walters is, this is a threat Lena could destroy herself. 

"I would like you to take a step back now, ma'am."

She's still working out a rhythm with the agents who no doubt feel at least a bit emasculated when six metas and extinction-threat aliens are never far from Lena's side, three of which are faster than a sniper's bullet. The Secret Service is now the security theater rather than any significant addition to her personal safety.

"Hmm," Walters grumbles, sniffing the air again.

Before Lena can stop her, Walters shoves her hand in Lena's trousers and fishes around. Her long nails find a very tender spot they don't belong and Lena grits her teeth. Walters makes a grunt the meaning of which Lena can't quite read.

Lena backhands her and the old woman is on the floor now with Kara hovering over her, eyes flashing blue and holding right at the edge of releasing her heat vision.

"How dare you!" Lena shouts.

"Get away from her. Now," Kara hisses, each word slow and deliberate. Her usually twinkling, musical voice is hollow. Robotic, almost.

"I...I...it was within my rights to check!" Walters protests.

Kara's kitten heel pins Walter's right hand to the floor.

"Don't. Move."

The press has been shooting pictures non-stop since this all started.

"Remove her, please," Lena tells the Secret Service.

"The Sergeant at Arms will hear about this, as will DC police, Mrs. Walters. That was sexual assault. Get out."

Three Secret Service guys frog-march Walters away and several journalists get photos of her slimy fingers.

"Publish those photos of her hand, and you're crossing a hell of a line, gentlemen. I'd advise against it. Freedom of the press is not freedom of access and freedom of harassment or shaming. Give us the room. If you would, agents, you as well please."

"Me?" Kara asks, softly.

"You? _You_ I need to hold me."

The hallway secretary pokes her head in. She is a sweet old lady, a local who's been here since the Civil War by the look of her and how everybody has a first day story about her. She wears giant hoop earrings and a white afro.

"Sorry she did that, little lady. Clear your schedule?"

"Yes, please."

=====

"I hate you right now," Jessie grumbles, gesturing with a posticker. "You just created a false rape report. Wrong narrative."

"That's genuine. You think I wanted that old bat to do that?" Lena grouses. "I thought she might, is all. I thought about hitting her nineteen times while she was rooting around down there."

"Also pretty mean to James," Kara reminds her. "Next time someone not at this table is going to touch you more than a handshake, clue me in. I would have killed her in a heartbeat if she'd made you cry. Almost did."

Lena exhales.

"Yeah. This was a very me plan. Should've asked for help from my family. Well, my real family. Think he'll forgive me? He probably hates me."

Kara giggles and taps her temple. 

"I have X-Ray vision. Let's just say it took a lot of willpower for him to keep enough blood in his brain to figure out something was wrong."

She doesn't wear her glasses anymore and she tends to keep her hair down and it's real hard for Lena to get through her daily meetings with a blue eye, golden-haired goddess leaning on the desk beside her or hovering over the papers she's reading. She supposes it's like trying to do homework with Aphrodite or Freya watching you show your work.

"Who's her replacement?" Anissa asks through a mouthful of Kung Pao.

"Micheline Berry."

Jenny's head whips around.

"Get out! The out gay, out trans, out atheist sometimes actress, sometimes director?"

Lena nods.

"It is Northern California and we crunched the numbers. Her district is going to pick up a lot of Silicon Valley and San Francisco after redistricting. Bluer than it is red. Take away the incumbent and poof. Walters would've been out in 2022 anyway."

Anissa sets her fork down.

"Goddamn, girl. Never let me get on your bad side. That was mean."

"What about James?"

Lena's surprised to hear her voice asking the question.

"If you want a Yelp review," Jessie jokes. "I'll be happy to provide one."

Raven closes her eyes.

"He wants to understand," she and M'Gann say at once. 

"He's confused," Raven adds. "He also thinks Jessie is cute and he misses Winn. He's writing him an email but a previous email from Winn mentions that it's an open relationship."

"He forgave me yet?" Kara mumbles. "I shut him down hard, and for _Mon-El_...bleh."

"I don't need telepathy to know he'd jump in front of a semi if it meant a hug before it hit him," Jenny teases. "Let alone more."

Lena sighs.

"Thoughts?"

"Don't ask us Sixes," Jenny jokes, indicating herself and Anissa. "You messy bis and pouty pans can sort this out. That said, don't mind if _you_ do something. Long as we remember the rules."

"Everyone has veto power, extensive testing, everyone agrees before any fluids, bisexual or pegged only. That all of them?" Lena asks, ticking off on her fingers.

_I broke two of those today, they know it, and they're just having dinner. Flirting. Joking. God. I don't deserve them._

"Well, they have to be _fun,"_ Jessie jokes. "I may crave variety but I'm not losing out on Lena time for some two-pump chump."

"You want him to photograph you like one of his French girls, don't you?" Kara whispers, bumping her shoulder against Lena.

"Regret letting Andrea introduce you to _Titanic_ ," Lena mutters. "But yeah, I wasn't acting today. Just being stupid."

Kara kisses her cheek.

"I love you. No matter what."

* * *

**Washington DC, Jan 21st 2021, 11:38pm, City Park**

The beat cops have the whole place roped off. It's a crime scene and it involves powers but no one's real sure what happened. No body, no stolen car, no signs of a murder. Just a crater in a city park and a bunch of broken twigs.

Natasha flashes her badge.

"Agent Irons, ARGUS Quick Response Force. What we got?"

The Metro Police CSI tech points out some things.

"Partial hairs. Burn marks. Bit of broken glass, mud."

"Blood, fluid? Signs of struggle?"

"No, maybe and you tell me. It's mud. Might be gopher hairs for all I know."

"Stand back, everybody."

[Glinda, you're up...]

The motherbox embedded in her ribcage just cackles. They got the evil out of the Apokoliptian relic but not the crazy. It's why she named it after a witch.

Nat hisses as the N-th Metal plates rise through her skin, nanites carrying the blood back inside her and nulling the pain.

"Whoo. Hate doing that on a night shift," Nat mutters, shaking her head to clear the cobwebs.

"Okay!" the tech chortles, stepping away. "Cyborg is on the scene. Robot goddess...reformed alien WMD plus black girl magic... Whatever. Hashtag above my pay grade. All yours."

Nat holds her now-metallic hand out and the scanner does its thing.

_No cosmic ray residue, so it didn't fall from orbit. No impact ring. No non-human organic scraps._

"What do almost microscopic scraps of granny panties, a heat vision burn, three different hair types, and a big ol' handprint in the mud mean to you?" she asks the tech.

"The world's sickest Cards Against Humanity hand?"

Losing Traci still stings but it stings a little less with this gothed-out redhead joking with her in the cool air.

"It means," Nat decides. "We report it to the White house as a _non-threat_ incident."

She didn't mention the fluids or the particulars of the shed skin cells because that's something she needs to see if some Tequila will get rid of by morning and she's hoping to be on vacation before the White House asks for details.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE #1: I showed this from James' view first so that Lena's intentions were ambiguous since it was a weird move on her part. I think all the actual sex scenes will be female POV regardless of gender mix but this interaction is more complicated than that.
> 
> NOTE #2: This is in no way meant to glorify the actions of Congresswoman Walters.
> 
> NOTE #3: There are websites about Christian brides that use the phrase 'grooming' non-ironically.
> 
> NOTE #4: "Sixes" here refers to the Kinsey scale, with 0 being fully heterosexual and 6 being fully homosexual.
> 
> NOTE #5: Andy Dick (a bisexual male) once said every man who is with a woman should be penetrated at least once, so that he would know what it was like and thus, presumably, take it seriously.


	7. Waffles and Whipped Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where the Tangerine Tyrant is being escorted out and the ladies all have to hunker down and telecommute and Kara has...ideas...as a result.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Includes Explicitly Sexual Content**  
>  See end of chapter for plot summary if you want to skip...
> 
>  **Female/Female**  
>  Vaginal fingering, oral, zero-gravity sex, pass out or tap out, nudity, sexy scheduling.

**Washington DC, Jan 25th 2021, 07:11am, White House**

Lena Luthor has a problem. She's still feeling a bit slimy from her moronic plan to oust Congresswoman Walters. What's worse is that Adrianna Rojas handed her an update on the remaining undecided races. Walter lost by 1,923 votes due to a spike in Democratic mail-ins and a steep drop in Republican mail-ins. Exit polls suggest her anti-LGBT, anti-abortion, and anti-immigrant policies took her out. Republican voters were all but ordered to not mail in. Running against gay marriage and running for the right to fire gay people for who they were proved too heavy a stone around Walters' neck in a state where a gay woman won 64% of the presidential votes.

_I'd already beaten her. If I'd waited a couple of days, it would've been fine. Could've broken four or five fewer hearts._

There's a tablet in Kara's hand and she's skimming reports from her Kryptonian soldiers on Earth and on the split-screen, she's reading Raven, M'Gann and Selene's report from the state dinner the other night. The tray of Belgian waffles on the bed in front of Lena looks almost as tasty as Anissa's bare, sweat-slicked biceps. Kara is behind her in bed, her ankles pinning Lena's legs apart. Jessie is looking at her bare thighs like a woman dying of starvation. 

Even if they haven't made love since, a dozen signals tell Lena they will.

"Could you waffle me, _gro ma chroi_?"

"No fork," Lena complains.

"Rao is kind," Kara hums, "Because that means I can suck your fingers clean."

Lena cracks the waffle in half with her hand and raises it to her mouth. She takes a big, dramatic bite out. Kara's breath speeds up and her nipples start to rise into Lena's shoulderblades. Lena flips her hair to the other side and moves the waffle past her ear. Kara takes five quick bites and then one last, tiny, slow one. Lena offers her fingers, one at a time. Kara makes good but the sounds coming out of her throat are pornographic, not culinary.

"Jessie," Lena gasps. "C'mere, pet."

With a blur, Jessie's kneeling before the bedside, shoulders slumped and head upturned.

"I like how Kara's holding me. But I think I deserve to come, don't you?"

Jessie grins.

"Should I?"

"Use your speed? Yes. I do have some work later on."

Jessie's grin splits her face. She climbs up on the bed and starts at Lena's ankle. She sucks on the thin skin over the bone until it's faintly purple. 

_No strappy heels for a while._

Dragging her tongue up, Jessie nibbles and bites and sucks, over and over. There are sore spots, delicious ones, here the hickey was formed a bit too close to a vein. 

_No stockings or skirts for a while, either._

Jessie's sky blue eyes are glassy and her pupils are blown so wide that only a thin ring of her irises can be seen. She reaches a trembling hand towards Lena' center and experimentally traces the outer lips, carefully.

"Mmm," Lena groans. "Feel how I'm wet for you, pet?"

Kara sets her tablet aside and wraps an arm around Lena's hipbones and pulls her back. Lena might as well be nailed down now.

"I like how you struggle against me," Kara breathes, spreading moisture along the back of her ear and liquid fire in the belly. "How you want to jerk and thrust and grind and arch this milky little back of yours but you can't. I'm going to make it so all you can do is _feel._ Feel how good our little pet is when she wants a treat."

Jessie dives in. This isn't a build-up. This isn't foreplay. This is an attack. Jessie's tongue slides in and out, faster, faster, faster until she can't do anything more without too much friction, too much heat. She pulls back for a moment and breathes on Lena's clit. All her blood is in there, Lena's sure of it. That tight, hot throb is synced with her pulse and the ache is all that matters.

Lena's hands leave Kara's calves and grasp Jessie's head.

"Suck. Suck until I tell you stop."

Jessie's moan almost takes her over the edge of the cliff.

"Come for her, babe. Show Jessie how good she is at it, Please, _khutov vaena?"_

Jessie finds her prize. Now that it's fully exposed, she takes Lena's clit in her puffy, cupids-bow lips.

"Hey there, big girl! I like how I can like, deep throat this," Jessie jokes before leaning back in and doing just that, brushing the front of her teeth carefully against the tip while her lips envelop the rest.

Jessie sucks in air between her teeth and her cheeks hollow.

"Oh," Lena croaks. "Oh, oh, oh!"

Lena's world shatters. Jessie's hunger and her suckling throws her over the cliff and then Jessie dives after, chasing her into the water and dragging her deeper, deeper, deeper. Her hips jerk up but Kara pins her fast. Her back arches but Kara pins her around the collarbone and sucks on her pulse point. One rolls into another, Jessie slowing long enough to give Lena oxygen then mercilessly speeding her to the next.

"Enough, enough, enough," Lena pants.

 _"_ How'd I do, mistress?" Jessie asks.

"Not mistress. No more games. This is love," Lena gasps. "Get in my lap. Want to be inside you."

Smooth skin and cords of muscle like banded steel wrap around Kara and Lena's waist. Kara gasps. Jessie's got her too.

Lena wets her fingers in her mouth and traces them from chin to mound. It takes three strokes and a circle of the thumb before Jessie's shaking apart around Lena's hand, her gyrations so intense that she's a blur from the hips up.

Jessie pitches forward and crumples into Lena's chest.

"Tired. Need boobs," she jokes.

Lena's brain comes back slowly. All of her girls are watching except Raven, who's at the doorway, presumably telling someone to fuck off until they're done.

"Sweet Jesus," Anissa murmurs. Her bottomless brown eyes are black. Her lower lip is puffy and much-abused by her teeth.

Jenny's bronzed skin is dark as cinnamon on her cheeks.

"Jessie, you all right?" M'Gann asks.

"Don't read my mind," Jessie whines. "Empty now."

"I have seen exorcisms that involve less thrashing," Jenny adds. "Way less."

She walks over and turns Jessie's face toward her.

"Bet our little vibro-tongued slut used up all that breakfast, didn't she?"

"Uh-huh."

"Is it just me or does she need orgasms just as often as she needs a snack?" Lena jokes.

"Known characteristic of speedsters," Kara replies. "Hypermetabolism affects more than blood sugar. Oxytocin, trace testosterone, serotonin, estrogen...you name it. Her body depletes and replenishes them at crazy rates. Throw in a spike in levels like post-orgasm oxytocin and the whole thing wobbles. High highs, quick crash."

"Twelve-hour periods like clockwork and high-functioning nymphomania," Jessie quips. "Best of both worlds."

Lena really has no reply to that.

=====

Lena's phone calls are kept brief. Her girls are taking turns, nipping and teasing and suckling and palming her breasts and _fuck_ , just _everything_ they can think of. At the moment, she's clinging to the headboard for dear life. Kara's hovering, head buried in between Lena's legs and her legs thrown over those broad, powerful shoulders. Lena's back is arched so high her breasts brush the velvet canopy of the bed. Kara curls in on herself whenever Lena makes a gasp or a croak she really likes.

"Thank you, Nancy. I have _uh_ , I _umm_ , I have a call from my detail. Talk more soon."

"Whenever you need, Madam President. I confess...that's fun to say. _Madam_ President."

The call ends. 

Lena has an audience, she realizes. A rather contemplative audience.

"It's like the Clinton thing, but mid-air, and make it gay," Jenny decides. "Power move on Lena's part. It ain't a sixty-nine. Maybe a 'w' because of the sort of valley there?" she suggests.

"No," Raven decides. "It's a heart. Like a greeting card on Valentines'. The top part with the curved part," she explains, tracing the shape in mid air.

"Floating heart," Anissa agrees. "I'll call the Kama Sutra people."

Lena dials her next missed call against all concepts of decency and common sense.

"Madam President," the commander replies. He's professional as they come and surely by now, enough gossip has trickled back that he expected something like this. "What do you need."

"I need a _hah-hah-hah_ , I need an update on the eviction."

"By tomorrow morning. My men, the US Marshalls came to collect some evidence for the DA in New York, and the 101st showed up after Miller and Kushner hold up on the roof and started taking potshots."

Lena chuckles.

"Mmm, that's _ahh_ , that's good."

"Stay safe, Madam President. Keep up on your allergy meds. Can't exactly throw ourselves in front of pollen for you."

"Good point. Always."

Lena barely hangs up before Kara's slow, worshipful strokes rip a high, keening cry from her.

"Enough?" Kara asks.

She's damp from her cheeks to her collarbone and that famous Supergirl smile is all over her face.

"Down, please."

Lena's ruined. She's sweaty, her thighs burn from the strain of clamping them around her lovers' heads and her fingers are stiff from grabbing and guiding and holding while she grinds.

Everyone got some but M'Gann and Raven who are in the corner, sharing some really suspicious conversation between themselves.

Raven walks over, smirking.

_That can't be good._

"Zatanna taught me some words of power," she coos, tracing a finger around Lena's navel. "M'Gann assures me this can't hurt you."

 _"Emoc. Emoc litnu uoy ssap tou."_ Raven commands, her eyes flickering red. <Come. Come until you pass out | "Spellspeak" or "Word of Power" magic>

An orgasm tears through Lena like someone just electrocuted her. She has scarcely enough time to refill her lungs before there's another. It rolls on and on and one, with Raven petting her hair and telling her how beautiful she is and modeling deep breathing for her.

 _Is it getting dark out?_ Lena wonders.

"Thank you," she finally manages. "I love you all so mu-" 

A sigh and a snore cuts off the the end of her sentence.

=====

They moved over to a currently-empty office once Lena came to. Lena's official laptop is open on her pajama-clad lap and her phone is in her hand, tapping out texts to agencies involved in the Children of Liberty case. 

The director of Marine Corps Intelligence proved her chops inside of twelve hours. She spun out from her investigation into an attack on a tech sergeant -- turned out he was an unregistered hybrid Martian -- and leveraged _Semper Fi_ and a few dozen off-duty leathernecks who went hunting in various bars, church basements and shooting ranges. Nineteen Children were cornered, intimidated and or beaten, and they coughed up intel aplenty. Lena will have to have a talk with Emily about rules of evidence but usually, Marine Intelligence is more about finding where to storm the beach than it is investigating civilians.

The FBI swooped in on the cases where there was enough non-poisoned evidence to give them an excuse, uncovering piles of weapons, maps and explosives. The Justice League followed up. Batman turned over some of the captured electronics to Kate Kane who had a friend them in Army Intelligences Cyberwarfare Lab and passed on the data to Raven. 

Seventy-two hours later, Lena has a list of emails, suspects, ammo dumps, planned raids, possible arrests and counter-insurgency proposals longer than the one she has for the Taliban in Afghanistan.

"Hell of a job, Marine. Thank you." 

Kara is rooting around in some file cabinet, bent at the waist. Naked. Her thighs are still shiny with her juices. Ordinarily, this is where Lena would pull a glass dildo out of her purse and ram it home, reminding Kara not to tease without permission. Ordinarily, she doesn't need to borrow a shoulder to walk down the hall.

"Come on!" she hollers. "It was here, I know it."

She turns around slowly, then speeds over to a cabinet in the corner.

"Hah! Gotcha."

"Raves, catch!" 

She wings the file over towards the table. A tendril of black smoke snares it and lowers it towards Lena's desk.

"What am I looking at, Kara?"

"The 21st Century Executive Initiative and the White House Quarantine Plan from 2018."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning a plan to set up the executive residences..." she waves her hands at their surroundings. "Into controlled access, first family only, home and home office space with a dedicated staff and no one else in or out. The second floor becomes our base. The CIA and DARPA pull some tech off shelves and we set up servers, video cameras for televised speeches and video chat, you name it, and you work from home except for a four-hour block for legislative and diplomatic visits. Your in-person visits and tours whatnot are Thursdays and Fridays only and everyone is IR-camera scanned for possible fever."

"What's the point?"

"There's a pandemic. Yeah, it's on the mend but with 42 percent of people being morons and refusing the vaccination, it won't go away. It'll just become local outbreaks and that's assuming no new strains or no next virus. This shows you are practicing what you preach, working from home, so on."

"What's the real point?"

Kara blushes.

"This is the first time we all lived together. We have a plausible, politically beneficial way to just make this floor _our bitch_ and I for one won't wear a stitch unless you ask me to."

Lena can't help it. Nudist Kara is a daydream that makes her shiver.

Jessie raises her hand.

"Tap on the head and a quick kiss. I'll eat you out anytime."

Anissa is drumming her hands on the table.

"Read about a commune in Georgia. The sisters all set up a system where they wore two bracelets, one color-coded for preferences and a reversible one for availability. Red or green. Consent wasn't assumed but there was sort of a common lingo. Someone walks up and says 'you fine, I want a slice' and the other one gets on her knees and says 'how do you want me' or 'i got work to do, ask Stacy' or whatever."

"Won't this affect my job performance?" Lena demands.

"First off," Kara begins, "You have six bills on the Senate floor right now and McConnell's looking at Schumer's smug face and he's scared that if he tries to filibuster, it'll be his last ever filibuster. If we're right, next week we can start plowing through the backlog whether that old turtle plays along or not."

Jenny nods her head.

"Lena, with what M'Gann and I put together, plus Selene's apparently bottomless pool of vampire subs and on-demand call girls, we can knock senators and congressmen of at will so long as they have some proclivity to cheat or take bribes or fuck a goat or whatever."

"So you want to use mind-reading, a vampire madam, and blackmail to enact my agenda?"

"Nope. I don't want you to blackmail, Lena. We tried that day before yesterday and you cried yourself to sleep."

:I want a bunch of Senators running around like cats in a rocking chair factory, wondering when the other shoe will drop. I walk up, all peaches and cream and farm fresh charm and I ask them to co-sponsor something. Something small, something mild, something they'd consider. Or vote for it late at night without broadcasting they're working with a Democrat. Guilty people like to do favors. Make themselves feel better. Besides, IOUs are like the cocaine of the Senate. "

M'Gann nods.

"Atoning through generosity is a very common human impulse."

Raven leaves her meditative posture and gets her feet under her.

"If someone hurts you, or someone truly exceeds their station, _then_ I will send one of Selene's, or one of my bound succubi and incubi and make sure to get footage, photos, and emerge with bruises. Then we pick a tabloid."

Lena closes her eyes, imagines the good and then the bad. The calls she made in the two hours put the Department of Education, Energy and Transportation on an upward bend. She made half of those with Kara's tongue worshiping her clit.

"I suppose my Luthor brains might allow some multitasking. Kara, make the bracelets _classy._ Maybe style them after Argonite marriage bands, little cord under to handshake on our DNA so that when we get close to each other, they light up the color-coding. Phone app for programing them or something. M'Gann, Raven and Kara are on lookout duty. Jessie's running interference. I'll speak to the stewards and the Secret Service. See how we prevent traumatizing them."

"Always wanted to see what your milky white self looked like with your lunch dripping your tits. You know you like using my cornrows to steer me."

_Amazing how she switches from role model to faux gangster when we're alone._

"On Mars, temples rose to the clouds dedicated to just such things."

_Telepathic orgies. That goes in a box that I never unpack..._

"The chosen Regent of House El deserves no less."

_I should probably talk to her about the implications of our marriage under Kryptonian law._

"I mean, I'm down for anything that means drinks, smoothies and a show. Plus if we want actual food, we can just have some laying around!"

_Only she would call oral sex 'smoothies'. Yes, Jess, the impromptu harem is secretly about food._

"Ah ain't never said no to a pretty lady wearing just boots and a smile and ah don't plan to."

_Sweet Jesus, her drawl comes out when she's horny and it works on me. Not to self: but thigh-high boots._

"Pleasures of the flesh are a form of worship to the Old Ones."

_I'll have to remind her I don't have some kind of eldritch kink._

Lena takes a deep breath.

"One amendment. Bathrobes or sweats in the hall, when we might be seen. We lock all doors behind us. Who volunteers to get dressed and go get lunch while I make calls?"

"Jessie!" M'Gann declares. "She got first chance. Nothing tastes like those first few drops."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **PLOT SUMMARY:**  
>  Lena and her gals are locked in while the Secret Service, US Marshalls and (if needed) the 101st Airborne are tasked with removing Trump, his children, his lackeys and already-fired federal officials who haven't cleaned out their desks. Because all she has to do are phone calls, emails to Congress and reading personnel files, Lena phones it in. Kara stumbles across a never-used plan for a "tele-White House" created in the Obama years for possible pandemic use. She has ideas and she has a thirst and Lena finds her panties and her arguments dropping.  
> 
> 
> * * *
> 
>   
>  **AUTHOR'S NOTE #1:**  
>  I recently stumbled across a halfway decent "free use" story. Got me thinking. It was hot but it also was just oozing male-centricness, lack of interest in female pleasure, and consent handwaving that flirted real close to non-consent. This is my attempt to "rebuild" free-use themes and fetishes in a safe, female-centric, emotionally rich way.  
>  **AUTHOR'S NOTE #2:**  
>  Human clits vary in size, especially when engorged. I decided Lena's Big Clit Energy was literal.


	8. DOSSIER:  Transition Documents for the Lena Luthor Administration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will help us all keep all these cool ladies (and gents) straight, as well as having sections on canon, canon divergence, and the political state of this brave new world we're making together.
> 
> Will be added to as time goes on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made the "enhanced" Kinsey scale up because I was thinking about Sara Lance in Legends and decided her bisexuality and preference for women was more complicated than "4-5" could capture. 
> 
> X is a preference for gender presentation with 0 being opposing gender only as and 6 being same gender only. This is measured by the self-reported past and current partners and the SBCI (Sexual Behaviors Comprehensive Instrument ) questionnaire.
> 
> Y is a scale that measures the linkage between emotional and sexual behavior. In essence, this would range from 0, being someone who exclusively engaged in one night stands, to 6 being someone who didn't even experience sexual attraction without years of emotional intimacy. This is measured exclusively by the SBCI (Sexual Behaviors Comprehensive Instrument ) questionnaire.
> 
> Z is a scale of how likely someone is to clearly express and act on their attraction whether successful or not, with 0 being someone who would repress their desires 100% of the time and 6 being someone who approaches any desired sexual partners without hesitation. This is measured by in-lab experiments and by the SBCI (Sexual Behaviors Comprehensive Instrument ) questionnaire.

###  **First Family Mailing List**

  
**lena.luthor@whitehouse.gov** = President Lena K. Luthor, 46th president of the United States  
 **kara.zorel@krypton.mil** = Kara Zor-El Danvers AKA Supergirl, commissioned in Krypton's Military Guild in September 2020 after the Multiverse Crisis and stationed on Earth.  
 **steers.and.queers@gmail.com** = Senator-elect Jenny Hex (D-TX)  
 **witchy.bird@titans.org** = Raven, former Teen Titan  
 **jessie.quick@starlabs.com** = Jessie Quick, AKA "The Flash" (Originally Earth-90)  
 **m.morzz@mars.gov** = M'Gann M'orzz, Spokeswoman for the Unified Martian Government (White Martian defector, former Green Martian rebel)  
 **annisa.pierce@naacp.org** = Anissa Pierce AKA "Thunder", Head of the Women's and Youth Taskforce with the NAACP

  
 **diana@themiscrya.gov** = Diana, Princess of Themiscrya AKA "Wonder Woman", fighting for love and truth and the uplift of women in Man's World  
 **hippolyta@themiscrya.gov** = Hipployta, Queen of Themiscra  
 **redhead.elvis@gmail.com** = Alex Danvers  
 **slippery.sam@gmail.com** = Sam Arias  
e **liza.danvers@johnhopkins.edu** = Eliza Danvers (first mom)

 **jess.haung@lcorp.com** = Acting CEO of L-Corp

###  **SECRET SERVICE DOSSIER 46-01-0005**

####  **REQUIRED READING FOR** FIRST FAMILY PROTECTIVE DETAILS

####  **ADDITIONAL RESTRICTIONS:** _ARGUS Security Clearances for "Emerald", "Ruby", "Crackle", "Bauble" and "Mirror", Kryptonian and Martian embassy approval_

****

  
NOTE FROM THE DIRECTOR: The protection of Lena Luthor presents a historic challenge for our agency. Due to the skills, combat abilities and situational awareness of her family members, specifically the First Ladies, she is better protected than any individual on the planet. That does not, however, absolve us of our duties towards protocol, presidential protection, or visitor screening. This is our job and the First Ladies did not volunteer as bodyguards, they are only acting out of emotional impulses to protect their family. They may as a result be overprotective or overcompensating with regards to lethal force.

It is our job to provide them safety in the executive residence and to particularly, to protect their extended families in the case of an 'identity reveal' of any of the true names of the vigilantes involved. 

Given the anti-alien and anti-metahuman sentiment in our country, the unusual number of patterns, siblings, cousins, and grand-parents to protect as well as a list of supervillains POTUS and the First Ladies have defeated or imprisoned (see appendixes, A, D, G, and H) the threat list is longer than for any previous president and also the possible threats are better equipped.

Per our request, the First Ladies have graciously offered to participate in training exercises, courses, and technology demonstrations that give us an opportunity to develop combat techniques, intelligence tools and covert tradecraft in excess of any currently held by any military intelligence agency. We will rise to this occasion.

* * *

  
** Lena Luthor, 46th President of the United States | ** POTUS | Codename "Rainbow"

  
**Gender:** Female

**Sexual Identity and Preferences:** Bisexual (Enhanced Kinsey Scale, X=4.1, Y=5.6, Z=1.5 ) 

**Sexual Relationships** : Kara Danvers, (F, committed), M'Gann M'orrz, (NB, committed), Jessie Quick (F, Committed), Anissa Pierce (F, committed), Raven, (F, committed), Jenny Hex (F, committed), James Olsen (M, intermittent, casual)

**Sexual Relationships (past):** Jack Spheer (M)

**Age:** 36

**Species:** Human

**Powers:** None

**Notable characteristics:** Keen intellect, bluffing and deception skills, green eyes, jawline, eyebrows

**Favorite things about herself:** "My smirk and the fact that I somehow _missed_ submitting a software patch that later cured cancer."

**Ethnicity:** Irish (maternal) and Scotch-Irish (paternal)

**Citizenship:** American (native), Irish (naturalized, later amended to native)

**Education:**

  * Saint Ann's School for Girls, Ashford Ireland (Preschool)
  * Metropolis Reformatory Institute for Girls (Grades K-5) | discharged multiple times for lack of poor behavior, reenrolled on parental protest
  * Institute De Rosey (Boarding School, Grades 5-12)
  * Harvard (Undergraduate) | Degree in Business Administration, Engineering and Physics | GPA 4.0 | _Magna cum laude_
  * Massachusetts Institute of Technology | Masters Degree in Mechanical Engineering
  * Massachusetts Institute of Technology | Masters Degree in Chemical Engineering
  * Massachusetts Institute of Technology | Doctoral Degree in Electrical Engineering 
  * Thesis: _Application of zinc-cesium coating to control for quantum probability in the construction of circuitry for medical nanotechnology_



**Work history:**

  * Harvard Club (waitress), 1 day
  * Spheerical Industries (co-founder), 4 years
  * L-Corp (CEO), 8 years 
  * CatCo (CEO), 6 years, sold and later repurchased during FY 2018-2019
  * President, current



* * *

**Ktharra Alathii Zor-El | Kara Danvers |** First Family | Codename "Bird Dog"

  
**Gender:** Female (genetically engineered)

**Sexual Identity and Preferences:** Pansexual, genetically enforced (human equivalent on Enhanced Kinsey Scale, X=3.0, Y=5.9, Z=0.8 ) 

**Sexual Relationships** : Mon-El (M), Lena Luthor, (F, committed), M'Gann M'orrz, (NB, committed), Jessie Quick (F, Committed), Anissa Pierce (F, committed), Raven, (F, committed), Jenny Hex (F, committed)

**Sexual Relationships (past)** : Mon-El (M)

**Age:** 36

**Species:** Kryptonian (genetically engineered with typical enhancements, illegally weaponized in Worldkiller project)

**Powers:** Atmospheric, orbital, and deep space flight / Invulnerability / Superstrength / Superspeed (approx 88% lightspeed on flinch reflex tests) / Thermal manipulation via touch or respiration AKA "freeze breath" / Telescopic vision / "X-Ray" vision via Neutrino reflection / Heat vision / Superhearing / Genetically engineered and surgically enhanced brain, treated since embryonic stage

> **NOTE:** We have no offensive, defensive, intelligence, or diplomatic counters for Ms Zor-El should she perceive ourselves or anyone else as a threat to Lena, herself, or loved ones. The Pentagon considers a rogue Kryptonian (e.g. from bereavement-related behavior) a threat comparable to global nuclear war. Agents responsible for protecting Lena, Kara, or Kara's family should act as if their charges' safety was as valuable as the nuclear codes. It is.

**Notable characteristics:** Optimistic personality, emotional intelligence, blue eyes, smile, love for Asian food, cat person, dog person 

**Favorite things about herself:** "My coolest skill I is can balance a chopstick on my nose and somehow I am still dating Lena!"

**Ethnicity:** Kryptonian, Argo City, Northern Continent

**Citizenship:** American (naturalized), Kryptonian (native), Israeli (ethnic, via Eliza Danvers), Maeshar (awarded), Rakni-Xinda (awarded), Martian Unified (awarded), French (awarded), Kenyan (awarded), Argentinian (awarded), German (pending award)

**Education:**

  * Argo Institute, Ages 2-14 (earth years), equivalent to PhD in human terms, specialties of particle physics, metallurgy, and mechanical design
  * Midvale High (Grades 8-12) | GPA 3.98
  * National City University | Degree in Journalism and Creative Arts | GPA 3.89 (adjusted to 4.0 following post-graduation records check) | _Magna cum laude_



**Work history:**

  * Spiffy's Rocking Diner (waitress), 4 summers
  * National City YWCA, swim instructor, 4 summers (college)
  * CatCo, (Assistant) 3 years
  * CatCo, (Investigative Journalist), 5 years
  * Vigilante, 6 years
  * Commander, Kryptonian Republican Gaurd, Earth/Mars/Sol System operating area, current
  * First Lady, current



* * *

**Jessica Quick** (formerly Jessica Taylor) | First Family | Codename "Jogger"

  
**Gender:** Female

**Sexual Identity and Preferences:** Pansexual, (Enhanced Kinsey Scale, X=3.0, Y=1.1, Z=5.8)

**Sexual Relationships** : Lena Luthor, (F, committed), Kara Danvers (F, committed) M'Gann M'orrz, (NB, committed), Anissa Pierce (F, committed), Raven, (F, committed), Jenny Hex (F, committed)

**Sexual Relationships (past)** Nathan Fillion, (M, past, six months), Zac Efron (M, one night), Rachel Evan Wood (F, two weeks), Amber Benson (F, one month), various allegations by spouses and parents 

**Age:** 27

**Species:** Human (expressed metagene, self-reports as second-generation metahuman)

**Powers:** Superspeed (top measured speed is 2.83c in NASA tests), super reflexes (99% lightspeed in flinch reflex tests), dimensional puncture via superspeed (longest run to date crossed 8 dimensional barriers), controlled quantum vibration and phasing, skin crystallization via vibration, extensive training in Tai Chi and Muy Thai

> **NOTE** : We have discovered that Ms Quick has a penchant for theatrics (professional or amateur) and a near addition to pranks and practical jokes, typically aimed at acquaintances s more than close friends. Her proclivities toward pranks are very useful as spot training exercises, however unwanted they may be. 
> 
> Her high-speed tagging of the visiting Republican delegation with masking tape signs reading 'kick me' was not detected, even as static or blur, on any of our cameras. The switching of the contents of the northwest first-floor armory with a mixture of laser tag guns, water guns, and balloon animals occured in a timeframe similar to the length of a long sneeze, including time spent posting the photos to our internal email network. The prank concluded with with the return of the disassembled and cleaned components for each weapon and one fully assmbled example per type. Thirty four weapons were removed, disassmbled, re-assembled and put back and the elasped time was under four seconds, including, presumably, multiple trips back and forth to carry them. 
> 
> Given their comedic nature, we decided these are not true threats to POTUS despite the fact that they make our jobs difficult. Even so, this combination of speed, precision, technical skill, and awareness of suveillance equipment leads us to believe she presents a complex threat envelope equal to, but distinct from, Kara, M'Gann or Raven.
> 
> Given that her abilities are more mid-range in scope unless she is exerting herself, she presents an excellent testbed for slowly ramping up countermeasures against unfriendly metahumans We have begun seeking a more predictable partnership with her. 

**Notable characteristics:** Sense of humor, high energy, flirtiness, appetite, provocative dress style

**Favorite things about herself:** "I'm a survivor. Lost one Earth. Found another. Lost one Family. Found another. Proposed to Lena. She said yes."

**Ethnicity:** Germanic or Scandavian (unknown, a refugee from Earth-90)

**Citizenship:** American (naturalized)

**Education:**

  * Unknown, a refugee from Earth-90



**Work history:**

  * Justice League (Earth-90), 11 years since induction as junior member at age 12
  * Modeling, 3 months
  * Acting, film, 3 years
  * Vigilante, 3 years
  * First Lady, current  
  




* * *

**Anissa Lateita Pierce |** First Family | Codename "Panther"

  
**Gender:** Female

**Sexual Identity and Preferences:** Lesbian, (Enhanced Kinsey Scale, X=6, Y=2.6, Z=5.3)

**Sexual Relationships** : Lena Luthor, (F, committed), Kara Danvers (F, committed) , Jessie Quick (F, committed), M'Gann M'orrz (NB, committed), Raven, (F, committed), Jenny Hex (F, committed)

**Sexual Relationships (past)** Grace Choi (F, 2 years)

**Age:** 38

**Species:** Human (expressed metagene, documented second-generation metahuman on the paternal side)

**Powers:** Superstrength (temporary, at-will, related to respiration), Invulernability (temporary, at-will, related to respiration), limited electric absorption and dispersal

**Notable characteristics:** Pride, wit, dark skin, cheekbones, jawline, African hairstyles, charity work, social justice activism

**Favorite things about herself:** "Little black girls look at me smile because and they know we're everything: smart, brave, superhuman. White men look at me and they fear I'm all those same things. "

**Ethnicity:** African American (genetic tests show Ghanian, Liberian, and Caucasian ancestors)

> **NOTE** : Family oral hisotry is extensive see ("Mama Rose" in Appendix S) and there are no white family members until the current generation, and no children to date from those marriages. Combined with the fact that the mitochondrial DNA is exclusively West African, this pattern indicates slaveowners raping female ancestors. 
> 
> One of Ms Pierce's award-winning essays in college was titled "I am wrapped in rape, yet I thrive. Should I care that truth makes you weak?" 
> 
> This biographical information is inlcuded for context. 
> 
> Because of her embrace of her African roots, her research into her enslaved ancestors, her African American heritage, her upbringing around oth educators and her activism against the deeply corrupt Freeland police, Ms Pierce has taken a guilty-until-innocent approach to white men she does not personally know. She is watchful and tends towards non-engagement socially and she reacts in an physically assertive manner towards white males speaking to her dismissively, in or near her personal space, or entering the room wihout asking unless they are known to her. 
> 
> Her tendencies towards physically interposing herself between POTUS or the First Ladies or slowing her breathing (meta human ability trigger, see above) when in the presence of white agents she has not worked with before, particularly males, should be taken as normal on her part, not hostile, and treated with utmost delicacy. 
> 
> All attempts will be made to keep a consident detail for eeveryone's peace of mind but nonetheless, all agents are required to take bi-monthly racial awareness classes or face re-assignment. One agent has already been reassigned and one seriously injured during a grossly unprofessional exchange with this particular First Lady (agent was at fault).

**Citizenship:** American (native)

**Education:**

  * Freeland Academy (K-12) | GPA 4.0 and Valedictorian
  * Howard University | Degrees in Organic Chemistry and Women's Studies | GPA 3.85
  * Washington University | Doctor of Medicine (licensed in Michigan)



**Work history:**

  * Various informal jobs, lawn work, home repair for elderly community members (as teenager)
  * Various waitressing and hospitality services (in college)



* * *

**M'Gann M'orrz / Megan Morse |** First Family | Codename "Wintergreen"

  
**Gender:** Female presenting, none inherent (shapeshifting biology)

**Sexual Identity and Preferences:** Pansexual telepath, species trait (telepathic reading of interviewer complicates scoring, approximate human equivalent on Enhanced Kinsey Scale, X=3.0, Y=6.0, Z=6.0)

**Sexual Relationships** : Lena Luthor, (F, committed), Kara Danvers (F, committed) Jessie Quick, (F, committed), Anissa Pierce (F, committed), Raven, (F, committed), Jenny Hex (F, committed)

**Sexual Relationships (past)** : T'al T'mon, (NB, past)

**Age:** 486 chronological (Earth years), estimated human biological equivalent 23 (Earth years)

**Species:** White-Green Martian hybrid biology (deliberate change in rest state)

**Powers:** Superstrength (Kryptonian equivalent), Invulernability to impact, torsion, puncture (Kryptonian equivalent), resistance to thermal energy (equivalent to 43% Kryptonian norm), Telepathic intake, Telepathic coercion, Telepathic knowledge transfer, Telepathic communication, Telepathic sensory manipulation and reflection (appears sexual in nature), Shapeshifting, Phasic disruption for defense and movement through solid objects

> **NOTE:** Ms M'orzz can pass effortlessly through hundreds of feed of soil or concrete, shapeshift into any humanoid form and anticipate any handshaking or code-word questions or simply override the false answer. Since any possilbe hostile martians (e.g. regime-loyal Whites) have the same skill set, it is not feasible to 'vet' Ms M'orrz via traditional techniques. 
> 
> Her access to POTUS, the First Ladies and any of our facilities is effectively limitless. 
> 
> As the only remotely reliable indicator of her presence is the reactions of her loved ones, especially Raven and Kara, she is 'on the honor system' per director's orders. Agents on this detail or on resewrve for it should makesure that the first families 'safewords' are memorized at all times, their psychological profiling training is up to tday, and that non-lethal anti-Martian weaponry (e.g. psychic scramblers, thermal pulse generators) is part of their loadout. Lethal anti-Martian weaponry is forbidden on the directors orders, Pentagon request, and the order of POTUS herself.

**Notable characteristics:** Empathy, kindness, casual dress style, fondness for chocolate, anti-racism and anti-fascism work

**Favorite things about herself:** "When I saw what the war on Mars was doing, I ran. When I realized what Earth had taught me would help to save Mars, I ran back. Now I have a foot in both and I managed to introduce chocolate chunk cookies to Mars!"

**Ethnicity:** Human form presents as African American, Hybrid Martian form is a political statement unique to White Martian anti-regime rebels, former Green Martian form used family traits from the H'vok valley and T'shor mountain areas

**Citizenship:** American (naturalized), British (naturalized, visa probation due to false papers), Egyptian (voided due to false papers, renewed as an award), Nepalese (awarded), Kryptonian (diplomatic honors)

> **NOTE:** The Martian Concordance views M'orrz as a defecting soldier and a terrorist at large, while the Unified Martian rebel movement sees her as a war hero and ranking general. All Martians who approach her must be assumed to be infiltrators and subject to extensive verification. Ms M'orzz or if available, J'onn J'onnz are the only option for detecting such threats.

**Education:**

  * No formal education on Mars (telepathic absorption in family groups)
  * No education on Earth (skill mimicry and telepathic absorption)



**Work history:**

  * Work history unverifiable due to subjects' age, ability to change apparent body and identity, and ability to predict interviewer questions
  * Federal Bureau of Investigation, (informant specializing in infiltrating racial hate groups), current
  * American Civil Liberties Union, (blogger and hate group monitoring consultant) current
  * First Lady, current



* * *

**Raven (preferred, legally Rachel Roth) |** First Family | Codename "Hot Topic"

  
**Gender:** Female

**Sexual Identity and Preferences:** Bisexual (not yet tested on Enhanced Kinsey Scale, pending Walter Reed center appointment)

**Sexual Relationships** : Lena Luthor, (F, committed), Kara Danvers (F, committed) Jessie Quick, (F, committed), Anissa Pierce (F, committed), M'Gann M'orrz, (NB, committed), Jenny Hex (F, committed)

**Sexual Relationships (past)** : Damian Wayne (M, three weeks), Cassandra Sandmark (F, 1 year)

**Age:** 23 for human host / not measurable (parasitic "Trigon" entity)

**Species:** Human, multidimensional magical parasite (infection in control) 

**Powers:** Flight (magical, regardless of air resistance), Energy blasts (magical, line-of-sight), Fire (magical, non-extinguishable, deployable line of sight or remotely), Non-solid "astral projection" form of multiplication, Light obfuscation (magical, total, night-vision equipment does not compensate so effective radius unknown), Sound absorption or illusion (magical, total, high-gain mics do not detect even normal air vibrations), Remote viewing of objects, healing (mental/magical) psychological attacks (fear and panic), body modification (in extreme cases, via parasite), the complete annihilation of solid matter (in extreme cases, via parasite, no detectable debris), explosions (in defense from or via parasite, max recorded yield 18 kilotons)

> **NOTE:** Due to the sheer arsenal of abilities, the fact that many of them ignore materials like armor and buildings, the traumatic nature of enduring her mental attacks, and her capacity to rapidly 'scale-up' in combat by draining energy from the parasite, all further sparring with Ms. Roth is suspended indefinitely. No-contact wargames are under consideration, pending her provision of additional information.

**Notable characteristics:** Introverted, unusually 'stoic' affect for her age, avid reader, fan of interpretive jazz, extremely defensive of children, deeply suspicious of religion

**Favorite things about herself:** "It's ridiculous, talking about this like it's something Disney put out but in a real sense, containing the universe-destroying hell god who fathered me _was_ about the friends I made along the way!"

**Ethnicity:** mother was Dutch and French, father non-human was a multidimensional entity of unknown origin

**Citizenship:** American (naturalized), Irish (via domestic partnership, pending approval)

**Education:**

  * Homeschooled (during her upbringing in the cult)
  * Achieved High School Diploma via correspondence with Seattle Central High School while a Titan
  * Correspondence degrees in Secondary Education (focused on art therapy) and in Visual Arts from the Oregon Open College Network
  * Numerous computer certificates in Ethical Hacking and Reverse Engineering (hardware and software)



**Work history:**

  * McDonalds, Fleming Ohio, 6 months
  * Pandhandling (while homeless)
  * Vigilante, 5 years
  * Student teacher, 6 months
  * Freelance coder, security tester, and sculptor, current
  * First Lady, current



* * *

**Jenny Hex, (preferred, legally Gweneirve Josephine Hex)** | First Family | Codename "Long Gun"

**Gender:** Female

**Sexual Identity and Preferences:** Lesbian (restricted information during the campaign -- she referred to it as "not slamming the closet door" -- and so not yet tested on Enhanced Kinsey Scale)

**Sexual Relationships** : Lena Luthor, (F, committed), Kara Danvers (F, committed) Jessie Quick, (F, committed), Anissa Pierce (F, committed), M'Gann M'orrz, (NB, committed), Raven (F, committed)

**Sexual Relationships (past)** : None

**Age:** 29

**Species:** Human, possible metagene, magical abilities

**Powers:** Quick firearms handling, handguns, long-distance use of bolt-action rifles, evading fire, marksmanship scores six standard deviations above norm, use of various occult items such as ritual blades, capture vessels, binding chains, and enchanted weapons, offensive use of runes, and either innate or equipment based use of 'infernal' or 'demonic channeling' magic (popular but correct term, see Appendix Z) for offense and defense

> **NOTE:** Ms Hex has donated more of her time to our traning and sparring teams than any other First Lady except Ms Zor-El and in return, she expects our full discretion related to the less savory and less publicly known scope of her magical abilites. Her excorcist abilities are popular in Texas and part of her appeal to voters.
> 
> Her other skills are not widely known outside her family, especially the more destructive or as she put it "the flamey or witchy-looking" ones. Keeping these confidental is a personal kindness to her as well as a practical benefit to us as a supportive Senator is better for our agency than one who not only feels her trust was betrayed, but has a presdient to enforce penalties.

**Powers (cont.)** : Possesses a pair of Colt Lightnings and a Sharps Buffalo Gun passed down by her family through the generations. Various magical runes, enchantments and properties have been added to the weapons over the years. Possesses an antique pocket watch on a chain which thus far has bound every demon Raven summoned during initial testing. A trio of ancient Egyptian artifacts she possesses are capable of weather manipulation, crowd-control blasts of fire, wind, and water and curiously, the spontaneous generation of poisonous snakes and control of the animals. Possesses an antique US Marshalls badge worn as a belt buckle and an over-the-shoulder bag made of deerskin which appears to be of Pueblo tribe craftsmanship. These items have unknown properties but seem to be part of her 'kit' in a combat situation.

> **NOTE:** Her use of firearms, not her skilll with magic, is her primary capability. Ms Hex has a demonstrated ability to disarm three four-person fire teams in five and a quarter seconds when fitting paint-bag rounds fitted to her Colts. We can presume that she can reload quickly in combat as well. She did this while maintaining her own cover and receiving only one "graze" from our personnel. 
> 
> Her skill with the Sharps at long range exceeds our best countersnipers with modern optics and a spotter though she uses only the original 1889 optics on the weapon, although we suspect magical effects are in play. Her rounds seems to ignore crosswind and when she triggers certain runes on the weapon, the superheated rounds penetrate body armor and vehicile cover. 
> 
> She also demonstrated what she called the "Haymaker bullet" which may be a joke, an intimidation tactic or a proof-of-concept regarding turning pistol rounds into boxing goves prior to impact. Despite the lower speed, the agents testing them were concussed immedately. They have reuested NOT to repeat the experience.

**Notable characteristics:** Outgoing, competitive nature, takes charge in conversation, enjoys classic rock, blues, and bluegrass, nationally ranked in Trivial Pursuit championships, avid football and baseball fan, enjoys cooking for her family

**Favorite things about herself:** "I'm nothing special. Helping people, that's special. Doesn't matter if its a ghost stuck in grandpa or fixing something with their zoning being wrong. Helping people makes us human."

**Ethnicity:** Seminole tribe, Czech and Austrian-American (paternal) / Choctaw and Hopi tribes and Mexican-American (maternal)

**Citizenship:** American (native), Irish (via domestic partnership, pending approval)

**Education:**

  * Homeschooled (due to extremely remote location)
  * Texas A&M | Degree in Argictulre and Business Management | 3.87 GPA 
  * Harvard Law School | Juris Doctorate, licensed in Texas



**Work history:**

  * Waitressing, various
  * Horseback riding instructor, 7 years (at Harvard)
  * Freelance exorcist and demonologist, current 
  * Competitive sharpshooter, current 
  * Firearms safety instructor, current
  * First Lady, current




End file.
